MONTAGUE     GLASS 


rv 


_ fc «      .  *     °       3  o "  »•*  «  o    ^  *<** 

'      ft  «    4»    »  -•       j    .      •>* 

••  r*6.2:  • : 


*Ifa  feller  wants  to  make  a  success  in  business 
he  should  be  a  little  up  to  date,  ain't  it  ?  " 


ABE   AND    MAWRUSS 

Being  Further  Adventures  of  Potash 
and  Perlmutter 

BY  MONTAGUE  GLASS 


ILLUSTRATED   BY 
J.  J.  6OULD  AND  MARTIN  JUSTICE 


New  York 
GROSSET  &  DUNLAP 

Publishers 


ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED,  INCLUDING  THAT  OF   TRANSLATION 
INTO  FOREIGN  LANGUAGES,  INCLUDING  THE  SCANDINAVIAN 


COPYRIGHT,  IQII,  BY  DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  IQOQ,  BY  FRANK  A.  MUNSEY  COMPANY 
COPYRIGHT,  IQIO,  IQII,  BY  THE  CURTIS  PUBLISHING 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER 

I.  SYMPATHY 3 

II.  THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS          ....  33 

III.  DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES          .....  66 

IV.  THE  RAINCOAT  KING 116 

V.  A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY 149 

VI.  A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.  GEIGERMANN           .        .  191 

VII.  BROTHERS  ALL 236 

VIII.  R.  S.  V.  P 281 

IX.  FIRING  Miss  COHEN         .....  294 

X.  Aux  ITALIENS 3IC 

XI.  MAN  PROPOSES  .                 342 


912758 


ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

CHAPTER  ONE 
SYMPATHY 

I  COME  down  on  the  subway  with  Max   Link- 
heimer  this   morning,  Mawruss,"  Abe    Potash 
said  to  his  partner,  Morris  Perlmutter,  as  they 
sat  in  the  showroom  one  hot  July  morning.    "That 
feller  is  a  regular  philantropist." 

"I  bet  yer,"  Morris  replied.  "He  would  talk 
a  tin  ear  on  to  you  if  you  only  give  him  a  chance. 
Leon  Sammet  too,  Abe,  I  assure  you.  I  seen  Leon 
in  the  Harlem  Winter  Garden  last  night,  and  the 
goods  he  sold  while  he  was  talking  to  me  and 
Barney  Cans,  Abe,  in  two  seasons  we  don't  do  such 
a  business.  Yes,  Abe;  Leon  Sammet  is  just  such 
another  one  of  them  fellers  like  Max  Linkheimer." 
"What  d'ye  mean  —  'such  another  one  of  them 
fellers  like  Max  Linkheimer '  ? "  Abe  repeated.  "  Be 
tween  Leon  Sammet  and  Max  Linkheimer  is  the 
difference  like  day  from  night.  Max  Linkheimer 
is  one  fine  man,  Mawruss." 

Morris    shrugged.     "I    didn't    say    he    wasn't," 

3 


4  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

he  rejoined,  " AU  I  sav t;  was  that  Leon  Sammet  is 
another  one  of  them  philantro  fellers  too,  Abe. 
Talks  you  dec!,  .dumb  un4  Wind." 

Abe  rose  to  his  feet  and  stared  indignantly  at  his 
partner. 

"I  don't  know  what  comes  over  you  lately, 
Mawruss,"  he  cried.  "Seemingly  you  don't  un 
derstand  the  English  language  at  all.  A  philan- 
tropist  ain't  a  schmooser,  Mawruss." 

"I  know  he  ain't,  Abe;  but  just  the  same  Max 
Linkheimer  is  a  feller  which  he  got  a  whole  lot  too 
much  to  say  for  himself.  Furthermore,  Abe,  my 
Minnie  says  Mrs.  Linkheimer  tells  her  Max  ain't 
home  a  single  night  neither,  and  when  a  man  neg 
lects  his  family  like  that,  Abe,  I  ain't  got  no  use 
for  him  at  all." 

"That's  because  he  belongs  to  eight  lodges/' 
Abe  replied.  "There  ain't  a  single  Sunday  neither 
which  he  ain't  busy  with  funerals  too,  Mawruss." 

"Is  that  so?"  Morris  retorted.  "Well,  if  I 
would  be  in  the  button  business,  Abe,  I  would  be  a 
philantropist  too.  A  feller's  got  to  belong  to  eight 
lodges  if  he's  in  the  button  business,  Abe,  because 
otherwise  he  couldn't  sell  no  goods  at  all." 

Abe  continued: 

"Linkheimer  ain't  looking  to  sell  goods  to  lodge 
brothers,  Mawruss.  He's  too  old  established  a 
business  for  that.  He's  got  a  heart  too,  Mawruss- 
Why  the  money  that  feller  spends  on  charity,  Maw- 


SYMPATHY  5 

russ,  you  wouldn't  believe  at  all.  He  told  me  so 
himself.  Always  he  tries  to  do  good.  Only  this 
morning,  Mawruss,  he  was  telling  me  about  a  young 
feller  by  the  name  Schenkmann  which  he  is  trying 
to  find  a  position  for  as  stock  clerk.  Nobody 
would  take  the  young  feller  on,  Mawruss,  because 
he  got  into  trouble  with  a  house  in  Dallas,  Texas, 
which  they  claim  the  young  feller  stole  from  them  a 
hundred  dollars,  Mawruss.  But  Linkheimer  says 
how  if  you  would  give  a  dawg  a  bad  name,  Mawruss, 
you  might  just  as  well  give  him  to  the  dawgcatcher. 
So  Linkheimer  is  willing  to  take  a  chance  on  this 
here  feller  Schenkmann,  and  he  gives  him  a  job  in 
his  own  place." 

"Dawgs  I  don't  know  nothing  about  at  all, 
Abe,"  Morris  commented.  "But  I  would  be  will 
ing  to  give  the  young  feller  a  show  too,  Abe,  if  I 
would  only  got  plain  bone  and  metal  buttons  in 
stock.  But  when  you  carry  a  couple  hundred 
pieces  silk  goods,  Abe,  like  we  do,  then  that's  some 
thing  else  again." 

"Well,  Mawruss,  Gott  sei  dank  we  don't  got  to  get 
a  new  shipping  clerk.  Jake  has  been  with  us  five 
years  now,  Mawruss,  and  so  far  what  I  could  see 
he  ain't  got  ambition  enough  to  ask  for  a  raise  even, 
let  alone  look  for  a  better  job." 

"You  shouldn't  congradulate  yourself  too  quick, 
Abe,"  Morris  replied.  "Ambition  he 's  got  it  plenty, 
but  he  ain't  got  the  nerve.  We  really  ought  to  give 


6  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

the  feller  a  raise,  Abe.  I  mean  it.  Every  time  I  go 
near  him  at  all  he  gives  me  a  look,  and  the  first 
thing  you  know,  Abe,  he  would  be  leaving  us." 

"Looks  we  could  stand  it,  Mawruss;  but  if  we 
would  start  in  giving  him  a  raise  there  would  be  no 
end  to  it  at  all.  Lass's  bleiben.  If  the  feller  wants 
a  raise,  Mawruss,  he  should  ask  for  it." 

Barely  two  weeks  after  the  conversation  above 
set  forth,  however,  Jake  entered  the  firm's  private 
office  and  tendered  his  resignation. 

"Mr.  Perlmutter,"  he  said,  "I'm  going  to  leave." 

"Going  to  leave?"  Morris  cried.  "What  d'ye 
mean  —  going  to  leave?" 

"Going  to  leave?"  Abe  repeated  crescendo. 
"An  idea!  You  should  positively  do  nothing  of 
the  kind." 

"It  wouldn't  be  no  more  than  you  deserve,  Jake, 
if  we  would  fire  you  right  out  of  the  store,"  Morris 
added.  "You  work  for  us  here  five  years  and  then 
*you  come  to  us  and  say  you  are  going  to  leave. 
Did  you  ever  hear  of  such  a  thing?  If  you  want  it 
a  couple  dollars  more  a  week,  we  would  give  it  to 
you  and  fartig.  But  if  you  get  fresh  and  come  to 
us  and  tell  us  you  are  going  to  leave,  y 'understand, 
then  that's  something  else  again." 

"Moost  I  work  for  you  if  I  don't  want  to?" 
Jake  asked. 

"'S  enough,  Jake,"  Abe  said.  "We  heard 
enough  from  you  already." 


SYMPATHY  7 

"All  right,  Mr.  Potash,"  he  replied.  "But  just 
the  same  I  am  telling  you,  Mr.  Potash,  you  should 
look  for  a  new  shipping  clerk,  as  I  bought  it  a  candy, 
cigar  and  stationery  store  on  Lenox  Avenue,  and 
I  am  going  to  quit  Saturday  sure." 

"Well,  Abe,  what  did  I  told  you?"  Morris  said 
bitterly,  after  Jake  had  left  the  office.  "For  the 
sake  of  a  couple  of  dollars  a  week,  Abe,  we  are  losing 
a  good  shipping  clerk." 

Abe  covered  his  embarrassment  with  a  mirthless 
laugh. 

"Good  shipping  clerks  you  could  get  any  day  in 
the  week,  Mawruss,"  he  said.  "We  ain't  going 
to  go  out  of  business  exactly,  y 'understand,  just 
because  Jake  is  leaving  us.  I  bet  yer  if  we  would 
advertise  in  to-morrow  morning's  paper  we  would 
get  a  dozen  good  shipping  clerks." 

"Go  ahead,  advertise,"  Morris  grunted.  "This 
is  your  idee  Jake  leaves  us,  Abe,  and  now  you  should 
find  somebody  to  take  his  place.  I'm  sick  and  tired 
making  changes  in  the  store." 

"Always  kicking,  Mawruss,  always  kicking!" 
Abe  retorted.  "By  Saturday  I  bet  yer  we  would 
get  a  hundred  good  shipping  clerks  already." 

But  Saturday  came  and  went,  and  although  in 
the  meantime  old  and  young  shipping  clerks  of 
every  degree  of  uncleanliness  passed  in  review 
before  Abe  and  Morris,  none  of  them  proved  ac 
ceptable. 


8  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"All  right,  Abe,"  Morris  said  on  the  Monday 
morning  after  Jake  had  gone,  "you  done  enough 
about  this  here  shipping  clerk  business.  Give  me 
a  show.  I  ain't  got  such  liberal  idees  about  ship 
ping  clerks  as  you  got,  Abe,  but  all  the  same,  Abe,  I 
think  I  could  go  at  this  business  with  a  little  system, 
y 'understand." 

"You  shouldn't  trouble  yourself,  Mawruss," 
Abe  replied,  with  an  airy  wave  of  his  hand.  "I 
hired  one  already." 

"You  hired  one  already,  Abe!"  Morris  repeated. 
"Well,  ain't  I  got  something  to  say  about  it  too?" 

"Again  kicking,  Mawruss?"  Abe  exclaimed. 
"You  yourself  told  me  I  should  find  a  shipping 
clerk,  and  so  I  done  so." 

"Well,"  Morris  cried,  "ain't  I  even  entitled  to 
know  the  feller's  name  at  all?" 

"Sure  you  are  entitled  to  know  his  name,"  Abe 
answered.  "He's  a  young  feller  by  the  name  of 
Schenkmann." 

"Schenkmann,"  Morris  said  slowly.  "Schenk 
mann?  Where  did  I  —  you  mean  that  feller  by 
the  name  Schenkmann  which  he  works  by  Max 
Linkheimer?" 

Abe   nodded. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  Abe?"  Morris 
cried.  "Are  you  crazy  or  what?" 

"What  do  you  mean  am  I  crazy?"  Abe  said. 
"We  carry  burglary  insurance,  ain't  it?  And  be- 


SYMPATHY  9 

sides  he  ain't,  Mawruss,  Max  Linkheimer  says, 
missed  so  much  as  a  button  since  the  feller  worked 
for  him." 

"A  button,"  Morris  shouted;  "let  me  tell  you 
something,  Abe.  Max  Linkheimer  could  miss  a 
thousand  buttons,  and  what  is  it?  But  with  us, 
Abe,  one  piece  of  silk  goods  is  more  as  a  hundred 
dollars." 

"  'S  all  right,  Mawruss,"  Abe  interrupted.  "Max 
Linkheimer  says  we  shouldn't  be  afraid.  He  says 
he  trusts  the  young  feller  in  the  office  with  hun 
dreds  of  dollars  laying  in  the  safe,  and  he  ain't 
touched  a  cent  so  far.  Furthermore,  the  young 
feller's  got  a  wife  and  baby,  Mawruss." 

"Well  I  got  a  wife  and  baby  too,  Abe." 

"Sure,  I  know,  Mawruss,  and  so  you  ought  to 
got  a  little  sympathy  for  the  feller." 

Morris  laughed  raucously. 

"Sure,  I  know,  Abe,"  he  replied.  "A  good  way 
to  lose  money  in  business,  Abe,  is  to  got  sympathy 
for  somebody.  You  sell  a  feller  goods,  Abe,  be 
cause  he's  a  new  beginner  and  you  got  sympathy 
for  him,  Abe,  and  the  feller  busts  up  on  you.  You 
accommodate  a  concern  with  five  hundred  dollars  — 
a  check  against  their  check  dated  two  weeks  ahead, 
Abe  —  because  their  collections  is  slow  and  you  got 
sympathy  for  them,  and  when  the  two  weeks  goes 
by,  Abe,  the  check  is  N.  G.  You  give  a  feller  out 
in  Kansas  City  two  months  an  extension  because 


io  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

he  done  a  bad  spring  business,  and  you  got  sym 
pathy  for  him,  and  the  first  thing  you  know,  Abe, 
a  jobber  out  in  Omaha  gets  a  judgment  against  him 
and  closes  him  up.  And  that's  the  way  it  goes. 
If  we  would  hire  this  young  feller  because  we  got 
sympathy  for  him,  Abe,  the  least  that  happens  us 
is  that  he  gets  away  with  a  couple  hundred  dollars ' 
worth  of  piece  goods." 

"Max  Linkheimer  says  positively  nothing  of  the 
kind,"  Abe  insisted.  "Max  says  the  feller  has 
turned  around  a  new  leaf,  and  he  would  trust  him 
like  a  brother." 

"Like  a  brother-in-law,  you  mean,  Abe,"  Morris 
jeered.  "That  feller  Linkheimer  never  trusted 
nobody  for  nothing,  Abe.  Always  by  the  first  of 
the  month  comes  a  statement,  and  if  he  don't  get 
a  check  by  the  fifth,  Abe,  he  sends  another  with 
4 past  due'  stamped  on  to  it." 

"So  much  the  better,  Mawruss.  If  Max  Link 
heimer  don't  trust  nobody,  Mawruss,  and  he  lets 
this  young  feller  work  in  his  store,  Mawruss,  then 
the  feller  must  be  O.  K.  Ain  't  it ? " 

Morris  rose  wearily  to  his  feet. 

"All  right,  Abe,"  he  said.  "If  Linkheimer  is  so 
anxious  to  get  rid  of  this  feller,  let  him  give  us  a 
recommendation  in  writing,  y 'understand,  and  I 
am  satisfied  we  should  give  this  here  young  Schenk- 
mann  a  trial.  He  could  only  get  into  us  oncet,  Abe, 
so  go  right  over  there  and  see  Linkheimer,  and  if  in 


SYMPATHY  ii 

writing  he  would  give  us  a  guaranty  the  feller  is 
honest,  go  ahead  and  hire  him." 

"Right  away  I  couldn't  do  it,  Mawruss,"  Abe 
said.  "When  I  left  Linkheimer  in  the  subway 
this  morning  he  said  he  was  going  over  to  Newark 
and  he  wouldn't  be  back  till  to-night.  I'll  stop  in 
there  the  first  thing  to-morrow  morning." 

With  this  ultimatum,  Abe  proceeded  to  the  back 
of  the  loft  and  personally  attended  to  the  shipment 
of  ten  garments  to  a  customer  in  Cincinnati.  Under 
his  supervision  a  stock  boy  placed  the  garments  in 
a  wooden  packing  box,  and  after  the  first  top  board 
was  in  position  Abe  took  a  wire  nail  and  held  it 
'twixt  his  thumb  and  finger  point  down  on  the  edge 
of  the  case.  Then  he  poised  the  hammer  in  his 
right  hand  and  carefully  closing  one  eye  he  gauged 
the  distance  between  the  upraised  hammer  and  the 
head  of  the  nail.  At  length  the  blow  descended, 
and  forthwith  Abe  commenced  to  dance  around  the 
floor  in  the  newborn  agony  of  a  smashed  thumb. 

It  was  while  he  was  putting  the  finishing  touches 
on  a  bandage  that  made  up  in  bulk  what  it  lacked 
in  symmetry  that  Morris  entered. 

"What's  the  matter,  Abe?"  he  cried.  "Did 
you  hurted  yourself?" 

Abe  transfixed  his  partner  with  a  malevolent 
glare. 

"No,  Mawruss,"  he  said,  as  he  started  for  the 
front  of  the  store,  "I  ain't  hurted  myself  at  all. 


12  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

I'm  just  tying  this  here  handkerchief  on  my  thumb 
to  remind  myself  what  a  fool  I  got  it  for  a  partner." 

Morris  waited  till  Abe  had  nearly  reached  the  door. 

"I  don't  got  to  tie  something  on  my  thumb  to 
remind  myself  of  that,  Abe,"  he  said. 

Ever  since  the  birth  of  his  son  it  had  seemed  to 
Morris  that  the  Lenox  Avenue  express  service  had 
grown  increasingly  slow.  Nor  did  the  evening  papers 
contain  half  the  interesting  news  of  his  early  married 
life,  and  he  could  barely  wait  until  the  train  had 
stopped  at  One  Hundred  and  Sixteenth  Street  before 
he  was  elbowing  his  way  to  the  platform. 

On  the  Monday  night  of  his  partner's  mishap 
he  made  his  accustomed  dash  from  the  subway 
station  to  his  home  on  One  Hundred  and  Eighteenth 
Street,  confident  that  as  soon  as  his  latchkey  rattled 
in  the  door  Mrs.  Perlmutter  and  the  baby  would  be 
in  the  hall  to  greet  him;  but  on  this  occasion  he  was 
disappointed.  To  be  sure  the  appetizing  odour  of  gc- 
dampftes  kalbfleisch  wafted  itself  down  the  elevator 
shaft  as  he  entered  the  gilt  and  plaster-porphyry  en 
trance  from  the  street,  but  when  he  crossed  the  thres 
hold  of  his  own  apartment  the  robust  wail  of  his  son 
and  heir  mingled  with  the  tones  of  Lina,  the  Slavic 
maid.  Of  Mrs.  Perlmutter,  however,  there  was  no  sign. 

"Where's  Minnie?"  he  demanded. 

"Mrs.  Perlmutter,  she  go  out,"  Lina  announced, 
"and  she  ain't  coming  home  yet." 


SYMPATHY  13 

Not  since  the  return  from  their  honeymoon  had 
Minnie  failed  to  be  at  home  to  greet  her  husband 
on  his  arrival  from  business,  and  Morris  was  about 
to  telephone  a  general  alarm  to  police  headquarters 
when  the  doorbell  rang  sharply  and  Mrs.  Perl- 
mutter  entered.  Her  hat,  whose  size  and  weight 
ought  to  have  lent  it  stability,  was  tilted  at  a  dan 
gerous  angle,  and  beneath  its  broad  brim  her  eyes 
glistened  with  unmistakable  tears. 

"Minnie  leben"  Morris  cried,  as  he  clasped  her 
in  his  arms,  "what  is  it?" 

Sympathy  only  opened  anew  the  floodgates  of 
Mrs.  Perlmutter 's  emotions,  and  before  she  was 
sufficiently  calm  to  disclose  the  cause  of  her  distress, 
the  gedampftes  kalbfleisch  gave  evidence  of  its 
impending  destruction  by  a  strong  odour  of 
scorching.  Hastily  Mrs.  Perlmutter  dried  her 
eyes  and  ran  to  the  kitchen,  so  that  it  was  not 
until  the  rescued  dinner  smoked  on  the  dining- 
room  table  that  Morris  learned  the  reason  for  his 
wife's  tears. 

"Such  a  room,  Morris,"  Mrs.  Perlmutter  declared; 
"like  a  pigsty,  and  not  a  crust  of  bread  in  the  house. 
I  met  the  poor  woman  in  the  meat  market  and  she 
tried  to  beg  a  piece  of  liver  from  that  loafer  Hirsch- 
kein.  Not  another  cent  of  my  money  will  he  ever 
get.  I  bought  a  big  piece  of  steak  for  her  and  then 
I  went  home  with  her.  Her  poor  baby,  Morris, 
looked  like  a  little  skeleton." 


14  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

Morris  shook  his  head  from  side  to  side  and  made 
inarticulate  expressions  of  commiseration  through 
his  nose,  his  mouth  being  temporarily  occupied  by 
about  half  a  pound  of  luscious  veal. 

"Her  husband  has  a  job  for  eight  dollars  a  week," 
she  continued,  "and  they  have  to  live  on  that." 

Morris  swallowed  the  veal  with  an  effort. 

"In  Russland,"  he  began,  "six  people " 

"I  know,"  Mrs.  Perlmutter  interrupted,  "but 
this  is  America,  and  you've  got  to  go  around  with 
me  right  after  dinner  and  see  the  poor  people." 

Morris  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"If  I  must,  I  must,"  he  said,  helping  himself  to 
more  of  the  veal  stew,  "but  I  could  tell  you  right 
now,  Minnie,  I  ain't  got  twenty-five  cents  in  my 
clothes,  so  you  got  to  lend  me  a  couple  of  dollars 
till  Saturday." 

"I'll  cash  a  check  for  you,"  Mrs.  Perlmutter  said 
firmly,  and  as  soon  as  dinner  was  concluded  Morris 
drew  a  check  for  ten  dollars  and  Mrs.  Perlmutter  gave 
him  that  amount  out  of  her  housekeeping  money. 

It  was  nearly  nine  o'clock  when  Morris  and 
Minnie  groped  along  the  dark  hallway  of  a  tene 
ment  house  in  Park  Avenue.  On  the  iron  viaduct 
that  bestrides  that  deceptively  named  thoroughfare 
heavy  trains  thundered  at  intervals,  and  it  was  only 
after  Morris  had  knocked  repeatedly  at  the  door 
of  a  top-floor  apartment  that  its  inmates  heard  the 
summons  above  the  roar  of  the  traffic  without. 


SYMPATHY  15 

"Well,  Mrs.  Schenkmann,"  Minnie  cried  cheer 
fully,  "how's  the  baby  to-night?" 

"Schenkmann?"  Morris  murmured;  "Schenk 
mann?  Is  that  the  name  of  them  people?" 

"Why,  yes,"  Minnie  replied.  "Didn't  I  tell  you 
that?  Mrs.  Schenkmann,  this  is  my  husband.  And 
I  suppose  this  is  Mr.  Schenkmann." 

A  tall,  gaunt  person  rose  from  the  soap  box  that 
did  duty  as  a  chair  and  ducked  his  head  shyly. 

"Schenkmann?"  Morris  repeated.  "You  ain't 
the  Schenkmann  which  he  works  by  Max  Link- 
heimer?" 

Nathan  Schenkmann  nodded  and  Mrs.  Schenk 
mann  groaned  aloud. 

" Ai  zuris!"  she  cried,  "for  his  sorrow  he  works 
by  Max  Linkheimer.  Eight  dollars  a  week  he  is 
supposed  to  get  there,  and  Linkheimer  makes  us 
live  here  in  his  house.  Twelve  dollars  a  month  we 
pay  for  the  rooms,  lady,  and  Linkheimer  takes  three 
dollars  each  week  from  Nathan's  money.  We 
couldn't  even  get  dispossessed  like  some  people 
does  and  save  a  month 's  rent  oncet  in  a  while  maybe. 
The  rooms  ain't  worth  it,  lady,  believe  me." 

"Does  Max  Linkheimer  own  this  house?"  Mor 
ris  asked. 

"Sure,  he's  the  landlord,"  Mrs.  Schenkmann 
went  on.  "I  am  just  telling  you.  For  eight  dollars 
a  week  a  man  should  work!  Ain't  it  a  disgrace?" 

"Well,  why  doesn't  he  get  another  job?"  Morris 


16  ABE  AND    MAWRUSS 

inquired;  and  then,  as  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Schenkmann 
exchanged  embarrassed  looks  and  hung  their  heads, 
Morris  blushed. 

"What  a  fine  baby!"  he  cried  hurriedly.  He 
chucked  the  infant  under  its  chin  and  made  such 
noises  with  his  tongue  as  are  popularly  supposed 
by  parents  to  be  of  a  nature  entertaining  to  very 
young  children.  In  point  of  fact  the  poor  little 
Schenkmann  child,  with  its  blue-white  complexion, 
looked  more  like  a  cold-storage  chicken  than  a  hu 
man  baby,  but  to  the  maternal  eye  of  Mrs.  Schenk 
mann  it  represented  the  sum  total  of  infantile 
beauty. 

"God  bless  you,  mister,"  she  said.  "I  seen  you 
got  a  good  heart,  and  if  you  know  Max  Linkheimer, 
he  must  told  you  why  my  husband  couldn't  get 
another  job.  He  tells  everybody,  lady,  and  makes 
'em  believe  he  gives  my  husband  a  job  out  of  char 
ity.  So  sure  as  I  got  a  baby  which  I  hope  he  would 
grow  up  to  be  a  man,  lady,  my  husband  never  took 
no  money  in  Dallas.  Them  people  gives  him  a 
hundred  dollars  he  should  deposit  it  in  the  bank, 
and  he  went  and  lost  it.  If  he  would  stole  it  he 
would  of  gave  it  to  me,  lady,  because  my  Nathan  is 
a  good  man.  He  ain't  no  loafer  that  he  should 
gamble  it  away." 

There  was  a  ring  of  truth  in  Mrs.  Schenkmann 's 
tones,  and  as  Morris  looked  at  the  twenty-eight- 
years  old  Nathan,  aged  by  ill  nutrition  and  abuse, 


SYMPATHY  17 

his  suspicions  all  dissolved  and  gave  place  only  to 
a  great  pity. 

"Don't  say  no  more,  Mrs.  Schenkmann,"  he 
cried;  "I  don't  want  to  hear  no  more  about  it. 
To-morrow  morning  your  man  leaves  that  loafer 
Max  Linkheimer  and  comes  to  work  by  us  for 
eighteen  dollars  a  week." 

Easily  the  most  salient  feature  of  Mr.  Max  Link 
heimer 's  attire  was  the  I.  O.  M.  A.  jewel  that 
dangled  from  the  tangent  point  of  his  generous 
waist  line.  It  had  been  presented  to  him  by  Har 
mony  Lodge,  122,  at  the  conclusion  of  his  term  of 
office  as  National  Grand  Corresponding  Secretary, 
and  it  weighed  about  eight  ounces  avoirdupois. 
Not  that  the  rest  of  Mr.  Linkheimer 's  wearing  ap 
parel'  was  not  in  keeping,  for  he  affected  to  be  some 
what  old-fashioned  in  his  attire,  with  just  a  dash  of 
bonhomie.  This  implies  that  he  wore  a  wrinkled 
frock  coat  and  low-cut  waistcoat.  But  he  had 
discarded  the  black  string  tie  that  goes  with  it  for  a 
white  ready-made  bow  as  being  more  suitable  to  the 
role  of  philanthropist.  The  bonhomie  he  supplied  by 
not  buttoning  the  two  top  buttons  of  his  waistcoat. 

"Why,  hallo,  Abe,  my  boy!"  he  cried  all  in  one 
breath,  as  Abe  Potash  entered  his  button  ware- 
rooms  on  Tuesday  morning;  "what  can  I  do  for 
you?" 

He  seized  Abe's  right  hand  in  a  soft,  warm  grip, 


18  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

slightly  moist,  and  continued  to  hold  it  for  the  better 
part  of  five  minutes. 

"I  come  to  see  you  about  Schenkmann,"  Abe 
replied.  "We  decide  we  would  have  him  come  to 
work  by  us  as  a  shipping  clerk." 

"I'm  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Linkheimer,  "As 
I  told  you  the  other  day,  I've  just  been  asked  by  a 
lodge  I  belong  to  if  I  could  help  out  a  young  feller 
just  out  of  an  orphan  asylum.  He's  a  big,  strong, 
healthy  boy,  and  he's  willing  to  come  to  work  for 
half  what  I'm  paying  Schenkmann.  So  naturally 
I've  got  to  get  rid  of  Schenkmann." 

"I  wonder  you  got  time  to  bother  yourself  break 
ing  in  a  new  beginner,"  Abe  commented. 

Linkheimer  waggled  his  head  solemnly. 

"I  can't  help  it,  Abe,"  he  said.  "I  let  my  busi 
ness  suffer,  but  nevertheless  I'm  constantly  giving 
the  helping  hand  to  these  poor  inexperienced  fellows. 
I  assure  you  it  costs  me  thousands  of  dollars  in  a 
year,  but  that's  my  nature,  Abe.  I'm  all  heart. 
When  would  you  want  Schenkmann  to  come  to 
work?" 

"Right  away,  Mr.  Linkheimer." 

"Very  good,  I'll  go  and  call  him." 

He  rose  to  his  feet  and  started  for  the  door. 

"Oh,  by  the  way,  Abe,"  he  said,  as  he  paused  a1 
the  threshold,  "you  know  Schenkmann  is  a  married 
man  with  a  wife  and  child,  and  I  understand  Mrs. 
Schenkmann  is  inclined  to  be  extravagant.  Foi 


SYMPATHY  19 

that  reason  I  let  him  live  in  a  house  I  own  on  Park 
Avenue,  and  I  take  out  the  rent  each  week  from  his 
pay.  It's  really  a  charity  to  do  so.  The  amount 
is  —  er  —  sixteen  dollars  a  month.  I  suppose  you 
have  no  objection  to  sending  me  four  dollars  a  week ' 
out  of  his  wages?" 

"Well,  I  ain't  exactly  a  collecting  agency,  y 'un 
derstand,"  Abe  said;  "but  I'll  see  what  my  partner 
says,  and  if  he's  agreeable,  I  am.  Only  one  thing 
though,  Mr.  Linkheimer,  my  partner  bothers  the 
life  out  of  me  I  should  get  from  you  a  recommenda 
tion." 

"I'll  give  you  one  with  pleasure,  Abe,"  Link 
heimer  replied;  "but  it  isn't  necessary." 

He  returned  to  the  front  of  the  office  and  went  to 
the  safe. 

"Why  just  look  here,  Abe,"  he  said.  "I  have 
here  in  the  safe  five  hundred  dollars  and  some  small 
bills  which  I  put  in  there  last  night  after  I  come  back 
from  Newark.  It  was  money  I  received  the  day 
before  yesterday  as  chairman  of  the  entertainment 
committee  of  a  lodge  I  belong  to.  The  safe  was 
unlocked  from  five  to  seven  last  night  and  Schenk- 
mann  was  in  and  out  here  all  that  time." 

He  opened  the  middle  compartment  and  pulled 
out  a  roll  of  bills. 

"You  see,  Abe,"  he  said,  counting  out  the  money, 
"here  it  is:  one  hundred,  two  hundred,  three  hun 
dred,  four  hundred  and " 


20  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Here  Mr.  Linkheimer  paused  and  examined  the 
last  bill  carefully,  for  instead  of  a  hundred-dollar 
bill  it  was  only  a  ten-dollar  bill. 

"Well,  what  d'ye  think  of  that  dirty  thief?" 
he  cried  at  last.  "That  Schenkmann  has  taken  a 
hundred-dollar  bill  out  of  there." 

"What?"  Abe  exclaimed. 

"Just  as  sure  as  you  are  sitting  there,"  Linkheimer 
went  on  excitedly.  "That  feller  Schenkmann  has 
pinched  a  hundred-dollar  bill  on  me." 

Here  his  academic  English  completely  forsook 
him  and  he  continued  in  the  vernacular  of  the  lower 
East  Side. 

"Always  up  to  now  I  have  kept  the  safe  locked 
on  that  feller,  and  the  very  first  time  I  get  careless  he 
goes  to  work  and  does  me  for  a  hundred  dollars  yet." 

"But,"  Abe  protested,  "you  might  of  made  a 
mistake,  ain't  it?  If  the  feller  took  it  a  hundred 
dollars,  why  don't  he  turn  around  and  ganver  the 
other  four  hundred?  Ain't  it?  The  ten  dollars 
also  he  might  of  took  it.  What?" 

"A  ganef  you  couldn't  tell  what  he  would  do  at 
all,"  Linkheimer  rejoined,  and  Abe  rose  to  his  feet. 

"I'm  sorry  for  you,  Mr.  Linkheimer,"  he  said, 
seizing  his  hat,  "but  I  guess  I  must  be  getting  back 
to  the  store.  So  you  shouldn't  trouble  yourself 
about  this  here  feller  Schenkmann.  We  decided  we 
would  get  along  without  him." 

But  Abe's  words  fell  on  deaf  ears,  for  as  he  turned 


SYMPATHY  21 

to  leave  Mr.  Linkheimer  threw  up  the  window  sash 
and  thrust  his  head  out. 

"  Po-lee-eece,  po-lee-eece ! "  he  yelled. 

When  Abe  arrived  at  his  place  of  business  after  his 
visit  to  Max  Linkheimer  he  found  Morris  whistling 
cheerfully  over  the  morning  mail. 

"Well,  Abe,"  Morris  cried,  "did  you  seen  it  Max 
Linkheimer?" 

Abe  hurriedly  took  off  his  hat  and  coat,  and 
catching  the  bandaged  thumb  in  the  sleeve  lining 
he  swore  long  and  loud. 

"Yes,  I  seen  Max  Linkheimer,"  he  growled, 
"and  I'm  sick  and  tired  of  the  whole  business.  Go 
ahead  and  get  a  shipping  clerk,  Mawruss.  I'm 
through." 

"Why?"  Morris  asked.  "Wouldn't  Linkheimer 
give  a  recommendation,  because  if  he  wouldn't, 
Abe,  I  am  satisfied  we  should  take  the  feller  with 
out  one.  In  fact  I'm  surprised  you  didn't  bring 
him  along." 

"You  are,  hey?"  Abe  broke  in.  "Well,  you 
shouldn't  be  surprised  at  nothing  like  that,  Mawruss, 
because  I  didn't  bring  him  along  for  the  simple 
reason,  Mawruss,  I  don't  want  no  ganef  working 
round  my  place.  That's  all." 

"What  do  you  mean  —  ganef  1"  Morris  cried. 
"The  feller  ain't  no  more  a  thief  as  you  are, 
Abe." 


22  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Abe's  moustache  bristled  and  his  eyes  bulged  so 
indignantly  that  they  seemed  to  rest  on  his  cheeks. 

"You  should  be  careful  what  you  say,  Mawruss," 
he  retorted.  ."Maybe  he  ain't  no  more  a  ganef  as 
I  am,  Mawruss,  but  just  the  same,  he  is  in  jail  and 
I  ain't." 

"In  jail,"  Morris  exclaimed.  "What  for  in 
jail?" 

"Because  he  stole  from  Linkheimer  a  hundred 
dollars  yesterday,  Mawruss,  and  while  I  was  there 
yet,  Linkheimer  finds  it  out.  So  naturally  he  makes 
this  here  feller  arrested." 

"Yesterday,  he  stole  a  hundred  dollars?"  Mor 
ris  interrupted. 

"Yesterday  afternoon,"  Abe  repeated.  "With 
my  own  eyes  I  seen  it  the  other  money  which  he 
didn't  stole." 

"Then,"  Morris  said,  "if  he  stole  it  yesterday 
afternoon,  Abe,  he  didn't  positively  do  nothing  of 
the  kind." 

Forthwith  he  related  to  Abe  his  visit  to  Schenk- 
mann's  rooms  and  the  condition  of  poverty  that  he 
found. 

"I  give  you  my  word,  Abe,"  he  said,  "the  feller 
didn't  got  even  a  chair  to  sit  on." 

"What  do  you  know,  Mawruss,  what  he  got  and 
what  he  didn't  got?"  Abe  rejoined  impatiently. 
"The  feller  naturally  ain't  going  to  show  you  the 
hundred  dollars  which  he  stole  it  —  especially, 


SYMPATHY  23 

Mawruss,  if  he  thinks  he  could  work  you  for  a  couple 
dollars  more." 

"Say,  lookyhere,  Abe,"  Morris  broke  in;  "don't 
say  again  that  feller  stole  a  hundred  dollars,  because 
I'm  telling  you  once  more,  Abe,  I  know  he  didn't 
take  nothing,  certain  sure." 

"Geh  wek,  Mawruss,"  Abe  cried  disgustedly; 
"you  talk  like  a  fool!" 

"Do  I?"  Morris  shouted.  "All  right,  Abe. 
Maybe  I  do  and  maybe  I  don't,  but  just  the  same 
so  positive  I  am  he  didn't  done  it,  I'm  going  right 
down  to  Henry  D.  Feldman,  and  I  will  fix  that 
feller  Linkheimer  he  should  work  a  poor  half-starved 
yokel  for  five  dollars  a  week  and  a  couple  of  top- 
floor  tenement  rooms  which  it  ain't  worth  six  dollars 
a  month.  Wait!  I'll  show  that  sucker." 

He  seized  his  hat  and  made  for  the  elevator  door, 
which  he  had  almost  reached  when  Abe  grabbed  him 
by  the  arm. 

"Mawruss,"  he  cried,  "are  you  crazy?  What 
for  you  should  put  yourself  out  about  this  here 
young  feller?  He  ain't  the  last  shipping  clerk  in 
existence.  You  could  get  plenty  good  shipping 
clerks  without  bothering  yourself  like  this.  Besides, 
Mawruss,  if  he  did  steal  it  or  if  he  didn't  steal  it, 
what  difference  does  it  make  to  us?  With  the  silk 
piece  goods  which  we  got  it  around  our  place,  Maw 
russ,  we  couldn't  afford  to  take  no  chances." 

"I  ain't  taking  no  chances,  Abe,"  Morris  main- 


24  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

tained  stoutly.  "I  know  this  feller  ain't  took  the 
money." 

"Sure,  that's  all  right,"  Abe  agreed;  "but  you 
couldn't  afford  to  be  away  all  morning  right  in  the 
busy  season.  Besides,  Mawruss,  since  when  did 
you  become  to  be  so  charitable  all  of  a  suddent?" 

"Me  charitable?"  Morris  cried  indignantly.  "I 
ain't  charitable,  Abe.  Gott  soil  huten!  I  leave  that 
to  suckers  like  Max  Linkheimer.  But  when  I  know 
a  decent,  respectable  feller  is  being  put  into  jail  for 
something  which  he  didn't  do  at  all,  Abe,  then  that's 
something  else  again." 

At  this  juncture  the  elevator  arrived,  and  as  he 
plunged  in  he  shouted  that  he  would  be  back  before 
noon.  Abe  returned  to  the  rear  of  the  loft  where  a 
number  of  rush  orders  had  been  arranged  for  ship 
ment.  Under  his  instruction  and  supervision  the 
stock  boy  nailed  down  the  top  boards  of  the  packing 
cases,  but  in  nearly  every  instance,  after  the  case 
was  strapped  and  stencilled,  they  discovered  they 
had  left  one  garment  out,  and  the  whole  process 
had  to  be  repeated.  Thus  it  was  nearly  one  o'clock 
before  Abe's  task  was  concluded,  and  although  he 
had  breakfasted  late  that  morning,  when  he  looked 
at  his  watch  he  became  suddenly  famished.  "I 
could  starve  yet,"  he  muttered,  "for  all  that  feller 


cares." 


He  walked  up  and  down  the  showroom  floor  in  an 
ecstasy  of  imaginary  hunger,  and  as  he  was  making 


SYMPATHY  25 

the  hundredth  trip  the  elevator  door  opened  and 
Max  Linkheimer  stepped  out.  His  low-cut  waist 
coat  disclosed  that  his  shirtfront,  ordinarily  of  a 
glossy  white  perfection,  had  fallen  victim  to  a  profuse 
perspiration.  Even  his  collar  had  not  escaped  the 
flood,  and  as  for  his  I.  O.  M.  A.  charm,  it  seemed 
positively  tarnished. 

"Say,  lookyhere,  Potash,"  he  began,  "what  d'ye 
mean  by  sending  your  partner  to  bail  out  that 
ganef?" 

"Me  send  my  partner  to  bail  out  a  ganef?"  Abe 
exclaimed.  "What  are  you  talking,  nonsense?" 

"I  ain't  talking  nonsense,"  Linkheimer  retorted. 
"Look  at  the  kinds  of  conditions  I  am  in.  That 
feller  Feldman  made  a  fine  monkey  out  of  me  in  the 
police  court." 

"Was  Feldman  there  too?"  Abe  asked. 

"You  don't  know,  I  suppose,  Feldman  was  there," 
Linkheimer  continued;  "and  your  partner  went  on 
his  bail  for  two  thousand  dollars." 

Abe  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"In  the  first  place,  Mr.  Linkheimer,"  he  said,  "I 
didn't  tell  my  partner  he  should  do  nothing  of  the 
kind.  He  done  it  against  my  advice,  Mr.  Link 
heimer.  But  at  the  same  time,  Mr.  Linkheimer, 
if  he  wants  to  go  bail  for  that  feller,  y 'understand, 
what  is  it  my  business?" 

"What  is  it  your  business?"  Linkheimer  repeated. 
44 Why,  don't  you  know  if  that  feller  runs  away  the 


s6  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

sheriff  could  come  in  here  and  clean  out  your  place? 
That's  all." 

"What?"  Abe  cried.  He  sat  down  in  the  nearest 
chair  and  gaped  at  Linkheimer. 

"Yes,  sir,"  Linkheimer  repeated,  "you  could  be 
ruined  by  a  thing  like  that." 

Abe's  lower  jaw  fell  still  further.  He  was  too 
dazed  for  comment. 

"W-what  could  I  do  about  it?"  he  gasped  at 
length. 

"Do  about  it!"  Linkheimer  cried.  "Why,  if 
I  had  a  partner  who  played  me  a  dirty  trick  like  that 
I'd  kick  him  out  of  my  place.  There  ain't  a  co 
partnership  agreement  in  existence  that  doesn't 
expressly  say  one  partner  shouldn't  give  a  bail  bond 
without  the  other  partner's  consent." 

Abe  rocked  to  and  fro  in  his  chair. 

"After  all  these  years  a  feller  should  do  a  thing 
like  that  to  me!"  he  moaned. 

Linkheimer  smiled  with  satisfaction,  and  he  was 
about  to  instance  a  striking  and  wholly  imaginary 
case  of  one  partner  ruining  another  by  giving  a  bail 
bond  when  the  door  leading  to  the  cutting  room  in 
the  rear  opened  and  Morris  Perlmutter  appeared. 
As  his  eyes  rested  on  Linkheimer  they  blazed  with 
anger,  and  for  once  Morris  seemed  to  possess  a 
certain  dignity. 

"Out,"  he  commanded;  "out  from  mein  store, 
you  dawg,  you!" 


SYMPATHY  27 

As  he  rushed  on  the  startled  button  dealer,  Abe 
grabbed  his  coat-tails  and  pulled  him  back. 

"Say,  what  are  we  here,  Mawruss,"  he  cried,  "a 
theaytre?" 

"Let  him  alone,  Abe,"  Linkheimer  counselled  in  a 
rather  shaky  voice.  "I'm  pretty  nearly  twenty 
years  older  than  he  is,  but  I  guess  I  could  cope  with 
him." 

"You  wouldn't  cope  with  nobody  around  here/' 
Abe  replied.  "  If  youse  two  want  to  cope  you  should 
go  out  on  the  sidewalk." 

"Never  mind,"  Morris  broke  in,  his  valour  now 
quite  evaporated;  "I'll  fix  him  yet." 

"Another  thing,  Mawruss,"  Abe  interrupted; 
"why  don't  you  come  in  the  front  way  like  a 
man." 

"I  come  in  which  way  I  please,  Abe,"  Morris 
rejoined.  "And  furthermore,  Abe,  when  I  got  with 
me  a  poor  skeleton  of  a  feller  like  Nathan  Schenk- 
mann,  Abe,  I  don 't  take  him  up  the  front  elevator. 
I  would  be  ashamed  for  our  competitors  that  they 
should  think  we  let  our  work-people  starve.  The 
feller  actually  fainted  on  me  as  we  was  coming  up 
the  freight  elevator." 

"As  you  was  coming  up  the  freight  elevator?" 
Abe  repeated.  "  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  you  got  the 
nerve  to  actually  bring  this  feller  into  mein  place 
yet?" 

"Do  I  got  to  get  your  permission,  Abe,  I  should 


28  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

bring  who  I  want  to  into  my  own  place?"  Morris 
rejoined. 

"Then  all  I  got  to  say  is  you  should  take  him  right 
out  again,"  Abe  said.  "  I  wouldn  't  have  no  ganevim 
in  my  place.  Once  and  for  all,  Mawruss,  I  am  telling 
you  I  wouldn't  stand  for  your  nonsense.  You  are 
giving  our  stock  as  a  bail  for  this  feller,  and  if  he 
runs  away  on  us,  the  sheriff  comes  in  and " 

"Who  says  I  give  our  stock  as  a  bail  for  this  feller?" 
Morris  demanded.  "I  got  a  surety  company  bond, 
Abe,  because  Feldman  says  I  shouldn't  go  on  no 
bail  bonds,  and  I  give  the  surety  company  my  per 
sonal  check  for  a  thousand  dollars  which  they  will 
return  when  the  case  is  over.  That's  what  I  done 
it  to  keep  this  here  Schenkmann  out  of  jail,  Abe, 
and  if  it  would  be  necessary  to  get  this  here  Link- 
heimer  into  jail,  Abe,  I  would  have  another  check 
for  a  thousand  dollars  for  keeps." 

Abe  grew  somewhat  abashed  at  this  disclosure. 
He  looked  at  Linkheimer  and  then  at  Morris,  but 
before  he  could  think  of  something  to  say  the  eleva 
tor  door  opened  and  Jake  stepped  out.  It  was  per 
haps  the  first  time  in  all  their  acquaintance  with 
Jake  that  Abe  and  Morris  had  seen  him  with  his 
face  washed.  Moreover,  a  clean  collar  served 
further  to  conceal  his  identity,  and  at  first  Abe  did 
not  recognize  his  former  shipping  clerk. 

"Hallo,  Mr.  Potash!"  Jake  said. 

"I'll  be  with  you  in  one  moment,  Mister  —  er," 


SYMPATHY  29 

Abe  began.  "Just  take  a  —  why,  that's  Jake, 
ain't  it?" 

Here  he  saw  a  chance  for  a  conversational  diver 
sion  and  he  jumped  excitedly  to  his  feet. 

" What's  the  matter,  Jake?"  he  asked.  "You 
want  your  old  job  back?" 

"It  don't  go  so  quick  as  all  that,  Mr.  Potash," 
Jake  answered.  "I  got  a  good  business,  Mr. 
Potash.  I  carry  a  fine  line  of  cigars,  candy,  and 
stationery,  and  already  I  got  an  offer  of  twenty-five 
dollars  more  as  I  paid  for  the  business.  But  I 
wouldn't  take  it.  Why  should  I?  I  took  in  a  lot 
money  yesterday,  and  only  this  morning,  Mr. 
Potash,  a  feller  comes  in  my  place  and  —  why, 
there's  the  feller  now!" 

"Feller!  What  d'ye  mean -- feller?"  Abe 
cried  indignantly.  "That  ain't  no  feller.  That's 
Mr.  Max  Linkheimer." 

"Sure,  I  know!"  Jake  explained.  "He's  the 
feller  I  mean.  Half  an  hour  ago  I  was  in  his  place, 
and  they  says  there  he  comes  up  here.  You  was  in 
mein  store  this  morning,  Mr.  Linkheimer,  ain't  that 
right,  and  you  bought  from  me  a  package  of  all- 
tobacco  cigarettes?" 

"JVw,  nu,  Jake,"  Morris  broke  in.  "Make  an 
end.  You  are  interrupting  us  here." 

Jake  drew  back  his  coat  and  clumsily  unfastened 
a  large  safety  pin  which  sealed  the  opening  of  his 
upper  right-hand  waistcoat  pocket.  Then  he  dug 


30  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

down  with  his  thumb  and  finger  and  produced  a 
small  yellow  wad  about  the  size  of  a  postage  stamp. 
This  he  proceeded  to  unfold  until  it  took  on  the 
appearance  of  a  hundred-dollar  bill. 

"He  gives  me  this  here,"  Jake  announced,  "and 
I  give  him  the  change  for  a  ten-dollar  bill.  So  this 
here  is  a  hundred-dollar  bill,  ain't  it,  and  it  don't 
belong  to  me,  which  I  come  downtown  I  should  give 
it  him  back  again.  What  isn't  mine  I  don't  want 
at  all." 

This  was  perhaps  the  longest  speech  that  Jake 
had  ever  made,  and  he  paused  to  lick  his  dry  lips 
for  the  peroration. 

"And  so,"  he  concluded,  handing  the  bill  to 
Linkheimer,  "here  it  is,  and  —  and  nine  dollars  and 
ninety  cents,  please." 

Linkheimer  grabbed  the  bill  automatically  and 
gazed  at  the  figures  on  it  with  bulging  eyes. 

"Why,"  Abe  gasped,  "why,  Linkheimer,  you  had 
four  one-hundred-dollar  bills  and  a  ten-dollar  bill 
in  the  safe  this  morning.  Ain't  it?" 

Linkheimer  nodded.  Once  more  he  broke  into  a 
copious  perspiration,  as  he  handed  a  ten-dollar  bill 
to  Jake. 

"And  so,"  Abe  went  on,  "and  so  you  must  of 
took  a  hundred-dollar  bill  out  of  the  safe  last  night, 
instead  of  a  ten-dollar  bill.  Ain't  it?" 

Linkheimer  nodded  again. 

"And  so  you  made  a  mistake,  ain't  it?"     Abe 


SYMPATHY    i  31 

cried.  "And  this  here  feller  Schenkmann  didn't 
took  no  money  out  of  the  safe  at  all.  Ain't  it?" 

For  the  third  time  Linkheimer  nodded,  and  Abe 
turned  to  his  partner. 

"What  d  'ye  think  of  that  feller? "  he  said,  nodding 
his  head  in  Linkheimer 's  direction. 

Morris  shrugged,  and  Abe  plunged  his  hands  into 
his  trousers  pockets  and  glared  at  Linkheimer. 

"So,  Linkheimer,"  he  concluded,  "you  made  a 
sucker  out  of  yourself  and  out  of  me  too !  Ain  't  it  ? " 

"I'm  sorry,  Abe,"  Linkheimer  muttered,  as  he 
folded  away  the  hundred-dollar  bill  in  his  wallet. 

"I  bet  yer  he's  sorry,"  Morris  interrupted.  "I 
would  be  sorry  too  if  I  would  got  a  lawsuit  on  my 
hands  like  he's  got  it." 

"What  d'ye  mean?"  Linkheimer  cried.  "I 
ain't  got  no  lawsuit  on  my  hands." 

"Not  yet,"  Morris  said  significantly,  "but  when 
Feldman  hears  of  this,  you  would  quick  get  a  sum 
mons  for  a  couple  of  thousand  dollars  damages  which 
you  done  this  young  feller  Schenkmann  by  making- 
him  false  arrested." 

"It  ain't  no  more  than  you  deserve,  Linkheimer,"' 
Abe  added.  "You're  lucky  I  don't  sue  you  for 
trying  to  make  trouble  between  me  and  my  partner 
yet." 

For  one  brief  moment  Linkheimer  regarded  Abe 
sorrowfully.  There  were  few  occasions  to  which 
Linkheimer  could  not  do  justice  with  a  cut-and- 


32  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

i 
dried  sentiment  or  a  well-worn  aphorism,  and  he  was 

about  to  expatiate  on  ingratitude  in  business  when 
Abe  forestalled  him. 

"  Another  thing  I  wanted  to  say  to  you,  Link- 
heimer,"  Abe  said;  "you  shouldn't  wait  until  the 
first  of  the  month  to  send  us  a  statement.  Mail 
it  to-night  yet,  because  we  give  you  notice  we  close 
your  account  right  here  and  now." 

One  week  later  Abe  and  Morris  watched  Nathan 
Schenkmann  driving  nails  into  the  top  of  a  packing 
case  with  a  force  and  precision  of  which  Jake  had 
been  wholly  incapable;  for  seven  days  of  better 
housing  and  better  feeding  had  done  wonders  for 
Nathan. 

"Yes,  Abe,"  Morris  said  as  they  turned  away; 
""I  think  we  made  a  find  in  that  boy,  and  we  also 
done  a  chanty  too.  Some  people's  got  an  idee, 
Abe,  that  business  is  always  business;  but  with  me 
I  think  differencely.  You  could  never  make  no 
big  success  in  business  unless  you  got  a  little  sym 
pathy  for  a  feller  oncet  in  a  while.  Ain't  it?" 

Abe  nodded. 

"I  give  you  right,  Mawruss,"  he  said. 


CHAPTER  TWO 
THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS 

THERE  was  an  intimate  connection  between 
Abe  Potash's   advent  in   the   lobby  of  the 
Prince    Clarence    Hotel    one    hot   summer 
day  in  June  and  the  publication  in  that  morning's 
Arrival  of  Buyers  column  of  the  following  state 
ment  and  news  item: 

Griesman,  M.,  Dry  Goods  Company,  Syracuse;  M.  Griesman, 
ladies'  and  misses'  cloaks,  suits,  waists,  and  furs;  Prince 
Clarence  Hotel. 

Nevertheless,  when  Abe  caught  sight  of  Mr. 
Griesman  lolling  in  one  of  the  hotel's  capacious 
fauteuils  he  quickly  looked  the  other  way  and  passed 
on  to  the  clerk's  desk.  Then  he  asked  in  a  loud 
tone  for  Mr.  Elkan  Reinberg,  of  Boonton,  New 
Jersey;  and,  almost  before  the  clerk  told  him  that 
no  such  person  was  registered,  he  turned  about  and 
recognized  Mr.  Griesman  with  an  elaborate  start. 

"Why,  how  do  you  do,  Mr.  Griesman?"  he  ex 
claimed.  "Ain't  it  a  pleasure  to  see  you!  What 
are  you  doing  here  in  New  York?" 

33 


34  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Griesman  looked  hard  at  his  interlocutor  before 
replying. 

Some  two  years  earlier  there  had  been  an  acrimo 
nious  correspondence  between  them  with  reference 
to  a  shipment  of  skirts  lost  in  transit  —  a  corre 
spondence  ending  in  threatened  litigation;  and  Mr. 
Griesman  had  transferred  his  account  with  Potash 
&  Perlmutter  to  Sammet  Brothers.  Hence  he  re 
garded  Abe's  proffered  hand  coldly,  and  instead  of 
rising  to  his  feet  he  continued  to  puff  at  his  cigar 
for  a  few  moments. 

"I  know  your  face,"  he  said  at  length,  "but  your 
name  ain't  familiar." 

"Think  again,  Mr.  Griesman,"  Abe  said,  quite 
unmoved  by  the  rebuff.  "Where  did  you  seen  me 
before?" 

"I  think  I  seen  you  in  a  law  office  oncet,"  Gries 
man  said.  "To  the  best  of  my  recollection  the 
occasion  was  one  which  you  said  you  didn't  give 
a  damn  about  my  business  at  all,  and  if  I  wouldn't 
pay  for  the  skirts  you  would  make  it  hot  for  me. 
But  so  far  what  I  hear  it,  I  ain't  paid  for  the  skirts, 
and  I  didn't  sweat  none  either." 

"Why  not  let  bygones  be  bygones,  Mr.  Gries 
man?"  Abe  rejoined. 

"I  ain't  got  no  bygones,  Abe,"  Griesman  replied. 
'"The  bygones  is  all  on  your  side.  I  ain't  got  the 
skirts;  so  I  didn't  pay  for  'em." 

"Well,  what  is  a  few  skirts  that  fellers  should  be  ; 
7  ^ 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS  35 

enemies  about  'em,  Mr.  Griesman?  The  skirts 
is  vorbei  schon  long  since  already.  Why  don't  you 
anyhow  come  down  to  our  place  oncet  in  a  while  and 
see  us,  Moe?" 

"What  would  I  do  in  your  place,  Abe?" 

"You  still  use  a  couple  garments,  like  we  make 
it,  in  your  business,  Moe,"  Abe  continued.  "You 
got  to  buy  goods  in  New  York  oncet  in  a  while. 
Ain't  it?" 

"  Well,  I  do  and  I  don't,  Abe,"  Moe  rejoined.  "  I 
ain't  the  back  number  which  I  oncet  used  to  was, 
Abe.  I  got  fresh  idees  a  little  too,  Abe.  Nowadays, 
Abe,  a  buyer  couldn't  rely  on  his  own  judgment  at 
all.  Before  he  buys  a  new  season's  goods  he's  got 
to  find  out  what  they're  wearing  on  the  other  side 
first.  So  with  me,  Abe,  I  go  first  to  Paris,  Abe. 
Then  I  see  there  what  I  want  to  buy  here,  Abe,  and 
when  I  come  back  to  New  York  I  buy  only  them 
goods  which  has  got  the  idees  I  seen  it  in  Paris." 

"But  how  do  you  know  we  ain't  got  the  idees 
you  would  seen  it  in  Paris,  Moe?" 

"I  don't  know,  Abe,"  Moe  replied,  "because  I 
ain't  been  to  Paris  yet  so  far.  I  am  now  on  my  way 
over  to  Paris,  Abe;  and  furthermore,  Abe,  if  I  would 
been  to  Paris,  y'understand,  what  does  a  feller  like 
Mawruss  know  about  designing?" 

"What  d'ye  mean,  what  does  a  feller  like  Mawruss 
know  about  designing?"  Abe  repeated.  "Don't 
you  fool  yourself,  Moe;  Mawruss  is  a  first-class, 


36  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

A  number  one  designer.  He  gets  his  idees  straight 
from  the  best  fashion  journals.  Then  too,  Moe, 
when  it  comes  to  up-to-date  styles,  I  ain't  such  a 
big  fool  neither,  y'understand.  I  know  one  or 
two  things  about  designing  myself,  Moe,  and  you 
could  take  it  from  me,  Moe,  there  ain't  no  house 
in  the  trade,  Moe,  which  they  got  better  facilities 
for  giving  you  the  latest  up-to-the-minute  style 
like  we  got  it." 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Moe  continued;  "but  as  I  told 
it  you  before,  Abe,  I  ain't  in  the  market  for  my  fall 
goods  now.  I  am  now  only  on  my  way  to  Paris, 
and  when  I  would  come  back  it  would  be  time  for 
you  to  waste  your  breath." 

"I  could  waste  my  breath  all  I  want  to,  Moe," 
Abe  rejoined.  "I  ain't  like  some  people,  Moe; 
my  breath  don't  cost  me  nothing." 

"What  d'ye  mean?"  Moe  cried  indignantly.  He 
had  allowed  himself  the  unusual  indulgence  of  a 
cocktail  that  morning  as  a  corollary  to  a  rather 
turbulent  evening  with  Leon  Sammet,  and  he  had 
been  absently  chewing  a  clove  throughout  the  inter 
view  with  Abe. 

"I  mean  Hymie  Salzman,  designer  for  Sammet 
Brothers,"  Abe  replied.  "There's  a  feller  which  he 
got  it  such  a  breath,  Moe,  he  ought  to  put  a  revenue 
stamp  on  his  chin." 

"That  may  be,  Abe;  but  the  feller  delivers  the 
goods.  Sammet  Brothers  are  sending  him  to  Paris 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS  37 

this  year  too,  Abe.  He  is  sailing  with  Leon  Sammet 
on  the  same  ship  with  me,  Abe." 

"Well,  then  all  I  could  say  to  you  is,  Moe,  you 
should  look  out  for  yourself  and  don't  play  no 
auction  pinocle  with  that  feller.  Every  afternoon 
he  is  playing  with  such  sharks  like  Moe  Rabiner 
and  Marks  Pasinsky,  and  if  he  ever  got  out  of  a  job 
as  designer  he  could  go  on  the  stage  at  one  of  them 
continual  performances  as  a  card  juggler  yet.  A 
three-fifty  hand  is  the  least  that  feller  deals 
himself." 

"One  thing  is  sure,  Abe,  you  couldn't  never  sell 
me  no  goods  by  knocking  Hymie  Salzman." 

"I  ain't  trying  to  sell  you  no  goods,  Moe;  I  am 
only  talking  to  you  like  an  old  friend  should  talk 
to  another.  When  are  you  coming  back?" 

"About  July  ist  I  should  be  here,"  Moe  replied, 
"and  if  you  want  to  come  and  see  me  like  an  old 
friend,  Abe,  you  are  welcome.  Only  I  got  to  say 
this  to  you,  Abe,  I  forgot  them  skirts  long  since  ago 
already,  and  I  wish  you  the  same." 

When  Abe  entered  his  showroom  that  morning 
Morris  Perlmutter  had  just  arranged  a  high-neck 
evening  gown  on  a  wire  model. 

"Well,  Abe,  what  d'ye  think  of  it?"  he  exclaimed 
proudly,  as  he  wiped  his  glistening  brow.  Abe 
fingered  the  garment's  silken  folds  and  puffed  criti 
cally  at  a  black  cigar. 


38  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"What  could  I  think,  Mawruss?"  he  replied/ 
"The  garment  looks  all  right,  Mawruss,  and  I 
ain't  kicking,  y'understand;  but  I  tell  you  the 
honest  truth,  Mawruss,  the  way  things  is  nowa 
days,  Mawruss,  a  feller  could  be  Elijah  the  Prophet 
already,  and  he  couldn't  tell  in  June  what  is  going 
to  please  the  garment  buyers  in  September." 

Morris  flushed  angrily. 

"I  don't  know  what  comes  over  you  lately,  Abe; 
nothing  suits  you,"  he  cried.  "  I  got  here  a  garment 
which  if  we  would  be  paying  a  designer  ten  thousand 
dollars  a  year  yet  he  couldn't  turn  us  out  nothing 
better,  and  yet  you  are  kicking." 

"What  d'ye  mean,  kicking?"  Abe  rejoined.  "I 
ain't  kicking.  I  am  only  passing  a  remark,  Maw 
russ.  I  am  saying  I  couldn't  tell  nothing  about 
it,  Mawruss,  because  so  far  ahead  of  time  like 
this,  Mawruss,  a  garment  could  look  ever  so  rot 
ten,  Mawruss,  and  it  could  turn  out  to  be  a  record- 
seller  anyhow." 

"So,  Abev"  Morris  broke  out  furiously,  "you 
think  the  garment  looks  rotten!  What?  Well,  all 
I  got  to  say  is  this,  Abe;  if  the  garment  looks  so 
rotten  you  should  quick  hire  some  one  which  could 
design  a  better  one,  because  I  am  sick  and  tired  of 
your  kicking." 

"What's  the  matter,  you  got  pepper  up  your  nose 
all  of  a  sudden,  Mawruss?"  Abe  protested.  "I 
ain't  saying  nothing  about  the  garment  is  rotten. 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS  39 

I  am  only  saying  it  gets  so  nowadays  that  in  June 
a  feller  turns  out  a  style  which  if  we  was  making 
masquerade  costumes  already  it  would  be  freaky 
anyhow;  and  yet,  Mawruss,  it  would  go  big  in 
September.  You  get  the  idee  what  I  am  talking 
about,  Mawruss?" 

"I  get  the  idee  all  right,"  Morris  retorted  with 
bitter  emphasis.  "You  got  the  nerve  to  stand  there 
and  tell  me  this  here  garment  is  freaky  like  a  mas 
querade  costume.  Schon  gut,  Abe.  From  now  on  I 
wash  myself  of  the  whole  thing.  I  am  through,  Abe. 
You  should  right  away  advertise  for  a  designer." 

Abe  rose  wearily  to  his  feet. 

"With  a  touchy  proposition  like  you,  Mawruss," 
he  said,  "a  feller  couldn't  open  his  mouth  at  all.  I 
ain't  saying  nothing  about  you  as  a  designer,  Maw 
russ.  All  I  am  saying,  Mawruss,  is,  a  designer 
could  be  a  feller  which  he  is  so  high-grade  like 
Paquin  or  any  of  them  Frenchers,  but  if  he  gets  his 
idees  from  fashion  papers  oder  the  Daily  Cloak  and 
Suit  Gazette,  Mawruss,  then  oncet  in  a  while  he 
turns  out  a  sticker." 

Morris  was  stripping  the  garment  from  the  dis 
play  form,  but  he  paused  to  favour  his  partner  with 
a  glare. 

"  What  would  you  want  me  to  do,  then  ? "  he  asked. 
"Make  up  styles  out  from  my  own  head,  Abe?  If 
I  wouldn't  get  my  idees  from  the  fashion  papers, 
Abe,  where  would  I  get  'em?" 


40  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

"Where  would  you  get  'em?"  Abe  repeated. 
"Why,  where  does  Hymie  Salzman,  designer  for 
Sammet  Brothers,  and  Charles  Eisenblum,  designer 
for  Klinger  &  Klein,  get  their  idees,  Mawruss?" 

This  was  purely  a  rhetorical  question,  but  as 
Abe  paused  to  heighten  the  effect  of  the  peroration, 
Morris  undertook  to  supply  an  answer. 

"Them  suckers  don't  get  their  idees,  Abe," 
he  said;  "they  steal  'em.  If  a  concern  gets  a  run 
on  a  certain  garment,  Abe,  them  two  highway 
robbers  makes  a  duplicate  of  it  before  you  could 
turn  around  your  head.  That's  the  kind  of  cut 
throats  them  fellers  is,  Abe." 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Abe  continued;  "but  they  got 
to  turn  out  some  garments  of  their  own,  Mawruss, 
and  they  get  their  idees  right  from  headquarters. 
They  get  their  idees  from  Paris,  Mawruss.  Only 
this  morning  I  hear  it  that  Hymie  Salzman  sails 
for  Paris  on  Saturday." 

"Well,  I  couldn't  stop  him,  Abe,"  Morris  com 
mented. 

"Sure,  I  know,  Mawruss,"  Abe  went  on;  "but 
things  is  very  quiet  here  in  the  store,  Mawruss, 
and  for  a  month  yet  we  wouldn't  do  hardly  no  busi 
ness.  I  could  get  along  here  all  right  until,  say, 
July  1 5th  anyhow." 

For  two  minutes  Morris  looked  hard  at  his  partner. 

"What  are  you  driving  into,  Abe?"  he  asked  at 
length. 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS  41 

"Why,  I  am  driving  into  this,  Mawruss,"  Abe 
continued.  "Why  don't  you  go  to  Paris?" 

"Me  go  to  Paris!"  Morris  exclaimed. 

"Why  not?"  Abe  murmured.  The  suggestion 
did  seem  preposterous  after  all. 

"Why  not!"  Morris  repeated.  "There's  a  whole 
lot  of  reasons  why  not,  Abe,  and  the  first  and 
foremost  is  that  the  Atlantic  Ocean  would  got  to 
run  dry  and  they  got  to  build  a  railroad  there  first, 
Abe.  I  crossed  the  water  just  oncet,  Abe,  and  I 
wouldn't  cross  it  again  if  I  never  sold  another 
dollar's  worth  more  goods  so  long  as  I  live,  Abe; 
and  that's  all  there  is  to  it." 

"What  are  you  talking  nonsense,  Mawruss?  On 
them  big  boats  like  the  Morrisania  there  ain't  no 
more  motion  than  if  a  feller  would  be  going  to 
Coney  Island,  Mawruss." 

"That's  all  right,  Abe,"  Morris  replied  firmly. 
"Me,  if  I  would  go  to  Coney  Island,  I  am  taking 
always  the  trolley,  Abe,  from  the  New  York  side 
of  the  bridge.  Furthermore,  Abe,  if  Sammet 
Brothers  sends  a  drinker  like  Hymie  Salzman  to 
Paris,  Abe,  they  got  a  right  to  spend  their  money 
the  way  they  want  to;  but  all  I  got  to  say  is  that 
we  shouldn't  be  afraid  they  would  cop  out  any  of 
our  trade  on  that  account,  Abe.  Hymie  would 
come  home  with  new  idees  of  tchampanyer  wine 
and  not  garments,  Abe." 

"Sure,  I  know,  Mawruss,"  Abe  retorted;  "but 


42  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

if  you  would  go  over  to  Paris,  Mawruss,  you  would 
come  back  with  some  new  idees  which  you  would 
turn  out  some  real  snappy  stuff,  Mawruss.  As  it 
is,  Mawruss,  with  a  sticker  like  you  got  it  there, 
Mawruss,  we  would  ruin  our  business." 

"All  right,  Abe;  I  heard  enough.  You  got  al 
together  too  much  to  say  for  a  feller  which  comes 
downtown  at  ten  o'clock  with  no  excuse  nor 
nothing." 

At  this  point  Abe  interrupted  his  partner  long 
enough  to  relate  his  visit  to  Moe  Griesman,  but  the 
information  entirely  failed  to  placate  Morris. 

"All  right,  Abe,"  he  shouted;  "why  don't  you  go 
to  Paris?  That's  all  you're  fit  for.  I  got  a  wife 
and  baby,  Abe;  but  with  a  feller  which  he  has  got 
no  more  interest  in  his  home,  y'understand,  than  he 
wants  to  go  to  Paris,  Abe  —  all  right!  Go  ahead, 
Abe;  go  to  Paris.  I  am  satisfied." 

Abe  regarded  his  partner  for  one  hesitating 
moment. 

" Schon  gut,  I  will  go  to  Paris,"  he  said;  and  the 
next  moment  the  elevator  door  closed  behind  him. 

For  five  minutes  after  Abe's  departure  Morris 
gazed  earnestly  at  his  newest  creation.  He  had 
intended  the  model  as  a  pleasant  surprise  to  his 
partner,  since  not  only  had  he  conceived  the  garment 
to  be  a  triumph  of  the  dressmakers  art,  but  it  had 
been  finished  far  in  advance  of  the  season  for  origi 
nating  new  styles.  He  had  confidently  expected 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS  43 

an  enthusiastic  reception  of  this  chef-d'ceuvre;  but 
in  view  of  Abe's  scathing  criticism,  he  commenced 
to  doubt  his  own  estimate  of  the  beauty  of  the  dress. 
Indeed,  the  longer  he  looked  at  it  the  uglier  it  ap 
peared,  until  at  length  he  grabbed  it  roughly  and 
literally  tore  it  from  the  wire  form.  He  had  rolled 
it  into  a  ball  and  was  about  to  cast  it  into  a  corner 
when  the  elevator  door  opened  and  a  young  lady 
stepped  out. 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Perlmutter,"  she  said. 

Morris  turned  his  face  in  the  direction  of  the 
speaker  and  at  once  his  mouth  expanded  into  a 
broad  grin. 

"Why,  Miss  Smith!"  he  exclaimed  as  he  rushed 
forward  to  greet  her.  "How  do  you  do?  Me  and 
Mrs.  Perlmutter  was  just  talking  about  you  to-day. 
How  much  you  think  that  boy  weighs  now3" 

"Sixteen  pounds,"  Miss  Smith  replied. 

"Twenty-two,"  Morris  cried  —  "net." 

"You  don't  say  so!"  said  Miss  Smith. 

"We  got  you  to  thank  for  that,  Miss  Smith," 
Morris  continued.  "The  doctor  says  without  you 
anything  could  happen." 

Miss  Smith  deprecated  this  compliment  to  her 
professional  skill  with  a  smiling  shake  of  the  head. 

"  We  wouldn't  forget  it  in  a  hurry,"  Morris 
declared.  "Everything  what  that  boy  is  to-day, 
Miss  Smith,  we  owe  it  to  you." 

"You're  making  it  hard  for  me,  Mr.  Perlmutter," 


44  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Miss  Smith  replied,  "because  IVe  come  to  ask  you 
a  favour." 

"A  favour?"  Morris  replied.  "You  couldn't  ask 
me  to  do  you  a  favour  because  it  wouldn't  be  no 
favour.  It  would  be  a  pleasure.  What  could  I 
do  for  you?" 

"I  have  to  leave  town  to-morrow  on  a  case," 
Miss  Smith  explained,  "and  I  need  a  dress  in  a 
hurry,  something  light  for  evening  wear." 

Morris  frowned  perplexedly. 

"That's  too  bad,"  he  said,  "because  just  at 
present  we  got  nothing  but  last  year's  goods  in 
stock  —  all  except  —  all  except  this." 

He  unfolded  the  model  and  shook  it  out. 

"What  a  pretty  dress!"  Miss  Smith  cried,  clasp 
ing  her  hands. 

"Pretty!"  Morris  exclaimed.  "How  could  you 
say  it  was  pretty?" 

"It's  perfectly  stunning,"  Miss  Smith  continued. 
"What  size  is  it,  Mr.  Perlmutter?" 

"The  usual  size,"  Morris  replied;  "thirty-six." 

"Why,  that's  just  my  size,"  Miss  Smith  declared. 
"Let  me  see  it."  Morris  handed  her  the  dress  and 
she  examined  it  carefully.  "What  a  pity,"  she  said, 
"it  has  a  slight  rip  in  front.  Somebody's  been 
handling  it  carelessly." 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Morris  said.  "I  tore  it  myself, 
Miss  Smith;  but  if  you  really  and  truly  like  it,  Miss 
Smith,  which  I  tell  you  the  truth  I  don't,  and  my 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS  45 

partner  neither,  you  are  welcome  to  it,  and  I  would 
give  you  a  little  piece  from  the  same  goods  which 
you  could  fix  up  the  rip  with." 

"I  couldn't  think  of  it,"  Miss  Smith  replied. 

"Not  at  all,  Miss  Smith.  You  would  do  me  a 
favour  if  you  would  take  it  alongwithyou  right  now." 

Miss  Smith  fairly  beamed  as  she  opened  her 
handbag. 

"How  much  is  it?"  she  asked. 

"How  much  is  it?"  Morris  repeated.  "Why, 
Miss  Smith,  you  could  take  that  dress  only  on  one 
condition.  The  condition  is  that  you  wouldn't  pay 
me  nothing  for  it,  and  that  next  fall,  when  we 
really  got  something  in  stock,  you  would  come  in 
and  pick  out  as  many  of  our  highest-price  garments 
as  you  would  want." 

Morris's  hand  shook  so  with  this  unusual  access 
of  generosity  that  he  could  hardly  wrap  up  the 
garment. 

"Also,  Miss  Smith,  I  expect  you  will  come  up  and 
have  dinner  with  us  as  soon  as  you  get  back  from 
wherever  you  are  going.  Already  the  baby  com 
mences  to  recognize  people  which  he  meets,  and  we 
want  him  he  should  never  forget  you,  Miss  Smith." 

The  cordiality  with  which  Morris  ushered  Miss 
Smith  into  the  elevator  was  in  striking  contrast  to 
the  brusk  manner  in  which  he  greeted  Abe  half  an 
hour  later. 

"Nu!"  he  growled.     "Where  was  you  now?" 


46  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"By  the  steamship  office,"  Abe  replied.  "I  am 
going  next  Saturday." 

"Going  next  Saturday?"  Morris  repeated. 
"Whereto?" 

"To  Paris,"  Abe  replied,  "on  the  same  ship  with 
Moe  Griesman,  Leon  Sammet  and  Hymie  Salzman." 

Morris  nodded  slowly  as  the  news  sank  in. 

"Well,  all  I  could  say  is,  Abe,"  he  commented 
at  length,  "that  I  don't  wish  you  and  the  other 
passengers  no  harm,  y'understand;  but,  with  them 
three  suckers  on  board  the  ship,  I  hope  it  sinks." 

The  five  days  preceding  Abe's  departure  were 
made  exceedingly  busy  for  him  by  Morris,  who 
soon  became  reconciled  to  his  partner's  fashion- 
hunting  trip,  particularly  when  he  learned  that  Moe 
Griesman  formed  part  of  the  quarry. 

"You  got  to  remember  one  thing,  Abe,"  he  de 
clared.  "Extremes  is  nix.  Let  the  other  feller 
buy  the  freaks;  what  we  are  after  is  something 
in  moderation." 

"You  shouldn't  worry  about  that,  Mawruss," 
Abe  replied.  "I  wouldn't  bring  you  home  no  such 
model  like  you  showed  it  me  this  week." 

"You  would  be  lucky  if  you  wouldn't  bring  home 
worser  yet,"  Morris  retorted.  "But  anyhow  that 
ain't  the  point.  I  got  here  the  names  of  a  couple 
commission  men  which  it  is  their  business  to  look 
out  for  greenhorns." 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS  47 

"What  d'ye  mean,  greenhorn?"  Abe  cried  indig 
nantly.  "I  ain't  no  greenhorn." 

"That's  all  right,"  Morris  went  on;  "in  France 
only  the  Frenchers  ain't  greenhorns.  You  ain't 
told  me  what  kind  of  a  stateroom  you  got  it." 

"Well,  the  outside  rooms  was  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  dollars  and  the  inside  room,  was  eight- 
five  dollars,"  Abe  explained;  "so  I  took  an  inside 
room  because  the  light  wouldn't  come  in  and  wake 
me  up  so  early  in  the  morning,  Mawruss,  and  forty 
dollars  is  as  good  to  me  as  it  is  to  them  suckers  what 
runs  the  steamboat  company.  Ain't  it?" 

Nevertheless,  when  Abe  found  himself  in  his 
upper  berth  the  morning  after  he  had  parted  with 
Minnie,  Rosie,  and  Morris  at  the  pier,  he  had  reason 
to  regret  his  economy.  He  shared  his  stateroom 
with  a  singer  of  minor  operatic  roles,  who,  as  a 
souvenir  of  a  farewell  luncheon  ashore,  carried 
into  that  narrow  precinct  an  odour  of  garlic  that 
persisted  for  the  entire  voyage.  In  addition,  the 
returning  artist  smoked  Egyptian  cigarettes  and 
anointed  his  generous  head  of  hair  with  violet 
brilliantine.  Hence  it  was  not  until  the  boat 
was  passing  Brow  Head  that  Abe  staggered  up  the 
companionway  to  the  promenade  deck. 

"Why,  hallo,  Abe!"  cried  a  bronzed  and  bulky 
figure.  "I  ain't  seen  you  for  almost  a  week." 

"No?"  Abe  murmured.  "Well,  if  you  would 
wanted  to  seen  me,  Leon,  you  knew  \vhere  you  could 


48  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

find  me:  just  below  the  pantry  my  stateroom  was,  in 
side.  A  dawg  shouldn't  got  to  live  in  such  a  place." 

At  this  juncture  Salzman  appeared  to  summon 
his  employer  to  a  game  of  auction  pinocle  in  the 
smoking  room,  and  as  Abe  started  to  make  a 
feeble  promenade  around  the  deckhouse  he  en 
countered  Moe  Griesman.  After  Moe  had  taken 
Abe's  hand  in  a  limp  clasp  he  nodded  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  smoking  room. 

"What  d'ye  think  of  them  two  suckers? "he 
croaked.  "They  ain't  missed  a  meal  since  they 
came  aboard." 

"What  could  you  expect  from  a  couple  of  tough 
propositions  like  that?"  Abe  replied.  "Was  you 
sick,  Moe?" 

"Sick!"  Griesman  exclaimed.  "I  give  you  my 
word,  Abe,  last  Thursday  night  I  was  so  sick  that 
I  commenced  to  figure  out  already  how  much  I 
would  of  saved  in  premiums  if  my  insurings  policies 
would  be  straight  life  instead  of  endowment.  No, 
Abe;  this  here  business  of  going  to  Paris  for  your 
styles  ain't  what  it's  cracked  up  to  be.  Always 
up  to  now  I  got  fine  weather  crossing,  but  the  way 
the  water  has  been  the  last  six  days,  Abe,  I  am 
beginning  to  think  I  could  get  just  so  good  idees 
of  the  season's  models  right  in  New  York." 

"D'ye  know,  Moe,"  said  Abe,  "I'm  starting  to 
feel  hungry?  I  wish  that  feller  with  the  shofar 
would  come." 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS  49 

Hardly  had  he  spoken  when  the  ship's  bugler 
announced  luncheon,  but  it  was  some  minutes 
before  Moe  could  summon  up  sufficient  courage 
to  go  below  to  the  dining  saloon,  and  when  they 
entered  they  found  Leon  Sammet  and  Hymie  Salz- 
man  had  nearly  concluded  their  meal. 

"Steward,"  Leon  shouted  as  Moe  sat  dowa  next 
to  him,  "bring  me  a  nice  piece  of  Camembert 
cheese." 

"One  moment,  Leon,"  Griesman  interrupted; 
"if  you  bring  that  stuff  under  my  nose  here  I  would 
never  buy  from  you  a  dollar's  worth  more  goods  so 
long  as  I  live!" 

"The  feller  goes  too  far,  Abe,"  he  said,  after 
Leon  had  cancelled  the  order  and  departed  to  drink 
his  coffee  in  the  smoking  room.  "The  feller  goes 
too  far.  Yesterday  afternoon  I  was  sitting  on  deck, 
and  the  way  I  felt,  Abe,  my  worst  enemy  wouldn't 
got  to  feel  it.  Do  you  believe  me,  Abe,  that  feller 
got  the  nerve  to  offer  me  a  cigar  yet!  It  pretty 
near  finished  me  up.  He  only  done  it  out  of  spite, 
Abe,  but  I  fooled  him.  I  took  the  cigar  and  I  got 
it  in  my  pocket  right  now." 

"Don't  show  me,"  Abe  cried  hurriedly.  "I'll 
tell  you  the  truth:  there  ain't  nothing  in  the  smok 
ing  habit.  I'm  going  to  cut  it  out.  Waiter,  bring 
me  only  a  plate  of  clear  soup  and  some  dry  toast. 
There  ain't  no  need  for  a  feller  to  smoke,  Moe; 
it's  only  an  extra  expense." 


50  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"I  think  you're  right,  Abe,"  Moe  said;  "but  I 
know  that  this  here  cigar  cost  Leon  a  quarter  on 
board  ship  here,  and  I  thought  I  would  show  him 
he  shouldn't  get  so  gay." 

Despite  Abe's  resolution,  however,  a  large  black 
cigar  protruded  from  his  moustache  when  he  stood 
on  the  wharf  at  Cherbourg,  twenty-four  hours 
later,  and  a  small,  ill-shaven  stevedore,  clad  in  a 
dark  blouse  and  shabby  corduroy  trousers,  pointed 
to  the  cloud  of  smoke  that  issued  from  Abe's  lips 
and  chattered  a  voluble  protest. 

"What  does  he  say,  Moe?"  Abe  asked. 

"I  don't  know,"  Moe  replied.  "He's  talking 
French." 

"French!"  Abe  exclaimed.  "What  are  you  try 
ing  to  do  —  kid  me  ?  A  dirty  schlemiel  of  a  green 
horn  like  him  should  talk  French!  What  an  idee!" 

Nevertheless,  Abe  was  made  to  throw  away  his 
cigar,  and  it  was  not  until  the  quartette  were  snugly 
enclosed  in  a  first-class  compartment  en  route  to 
Paris  that  Abe  felt  safe  to  indulge  in  another  cigar. 
He  explored  his  pockets,  but  without  result. 

"Moe,"  he  said,  "do  you  got  maybe  another  cigar 
on  you?" 

"I'm  smoking  the  one  which  Leon  give  it  me  on 
the  ship  the  other  day,"  Moe  replied.  "Leon,  be 
a  good  feller;  give  him  a  cigar." 

"I  give  you  my  word,  Moe,  this  is  the  last  one," 
Leon  replied  as  he  bit  the  end  off  a  huge  invincible. 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS  51 

"You  got  something  there  bulging  in  your  vest 
pocket,  Abe.  Why  don't  you  smoke  it?" 

"That  ain't  a  cigar,"  Abe  answered;  "that's  a 
fountain  pen." 

"Smoke  it  anyhow,"  Leon  advised;  "because  the 
only  cigars  you  could  get  on  this  train  is  French 
Government  cigars,  and  I'd  sooner  tackle  a  fountain 
pen  as  one  of  them  rolls  of  spinach." 

"That's  a  country!"  Abe  commented.  "Couldn't 
even  get  a  decent  cigar  here!" 

"In  Paris  you  could  get  plenty  good  cigars," 
Hymie  Salzman  said,  and  Hymie  was  right  for,  at 
the  Gare  St.  Lazare,  M.  Adolphe  Kaufmann-Levi, 
commissionnaire,  awaited  them,  his  pockets  literally 
spilling  red-banded  perfectos  at  every  gesture  of 
his  lively  fingers.  M.  Kaufmann-Levi  spoke  Eng 
lish,  French,  and  German  with  every  muscle  of  his 
body  from  the  waist  up. 

"Welcome  to  France,  Mr.  Potash,"  he  said. 
"You  had  a  good  voyage,  doubtless;  because  you 
Americans  are  born  sailors." 

"Maybe  we  are  born  sailors,"  Abe  admitted, 
"but  I  must  of  grew  out  of  it.  I  tell  you  the  honest 
truth,  if  I  could  go  back  by  trolley,  and  it  took  a 
year,  I  would  do  it." 

"The  weather  is  always  more  settled  in  July 
than  in  August,"  said  M.  Kaufmann-Levi,  "and  I 
wouldn't  worry  about  the  return  trip  just  now.  I 
have  rooms  for  you  gentlemen  all  on  one  floor  of  a 


52  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

hotel  near  the  Opera,  and  taximeters  are  in  waiting. 
After  you  have  settled  we  will  take  dinner  together." 

Thus  it  happened  that,  at  half  past  six  that 
evening,  M.  Kaufmann-Levi  conducted  his  four 
guests  from  the  Restaurant  Marguery  to  a  sidewalk 
table  of  the  Cafe  de  la  Paix,  and  for  almost  an  hour 
they  watched  the  crowd  making  its  way  to  the 
Opera. 

"You  see,  Moe,"  Abe  said,  "everything  is  tunics 
this  year;  tunics  oder  chiffon  overskirts,  net  collars 
and  yokes." 

Moe  nodded  absently.  His  eyes  were  glued  to 
a  lady  sitting  at  the  next  table. 

"You  got  to  come  to  Paris  to  see  'em,  Abe," 
he  murmured.  "They  don't  make  'em  like  that 
in  America." 

"We  make  as  good  garments  in  America  as  any 
where,"  Abe  protested. 

"Garments  I  ain't  talking  about  at  all,"  Moe 
whispered  hoarsely;  "I  mean  peaches.  Did  y'ever 
see  anything  like  that  lady  there  sitting  next  to 
you?  Look  at  the  get-up,  Abe.  Ain't  it  chic?" 

"It's  a  pretty  good-looking  model,  Moe,"  Abe 
replied,  "but  a  bit  too  plain  for  us.  See  all  the 
fancy-looking  garments  there  are  round  here." 

"Plain  nothing!"  Moe  muttered.  "Look  at  the 
way  it  fits  her.  I  tell  you,  Abe,  the  French  ladies 
know  how  to  wear  their  clothes." 

A   moment   later   the   couple   at   the   next   table 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS  53 

passed  along  toward  the  Opera,  and  once  more  Abe 
and  Moe  turned  their  attention  to  the  crowds  on 
the  boulevard. 

For  the  remainder  of  their  stay  in  Paris  Abe  and 
Leon  spent  their  time  in  a  ceaseless  hunt  for  new 
models  and  their  nights  in  plying  Moe  Griesman  with 
entertainment.  It  cannot  be  said  that  Moe  dis 
couraged  them  to  any  marked  degree,  for  while  he 
occasionally  hinted  to  Abe  that  the  New  York  cloak 
and  suit  trade  was  an  open  market,  and  garment 
buyers  had  a  large  field  from  which  to  choose,  he 
also  told  Leon  that  he  saw  no  reason  why  he  should 
not  continue  to  buy  goods  from  Sammet  Brothers, 
provided  the  prices  were  right. 

Nearly  every  evening  found  them  sitting  at  the 
corner  table  of  the  Cafe  de  la  Paix,  and  upon  many 
of  these  occasions  the  next  table  was  occupied  by 
the  same  couple  that  sat  there  on  the  night  of  Abe's 
arrival  in  Paris. 

"You  know,  Abe,  that  dress  is  the  most  uniquest 
thing  in  Paris,"  Moe  exclaimed  on  the  evening  of 
the  last  day  in  Paris.  "I  ain't  seen  nothing  like 
it  anywhere." 

"Good  reason,  Moe,"  Leon  Sammet  cried;  it's 
rotten.  That's  one  of  last  year's  models." 

"What  are  you  talking  nonsense?  One  of  the  last 
year's  models!"  Moe  Griesman  cried  indignantly. 
"Don't  you  think  I  know  a  new  style  when  I  see  it?" 

"Moe  is  right,  Leon,"  Abe  said.     "You  ain't  got 


54  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

no  business  to  talk  that  way  at  all.  The  style  is 
this  year's  model." 

"Of  course,  Abe,"  Leon  said  with  ironic  preci 
sion,  "when  a  judge  like  you  says  something, 
y'understand,  then  it's  so.  Take  another  of  them 
sixty-cent  ice-creams,  Moe." 

Ordinarily  Abe  would  have  turned  Leon's  sar 
casm  with  a  retort  in  kind,  but  Leon's  remark  fell 
on  deaf  ears,  for  Abe  was  listening  to  a  conversation 
at  the  next  table  and  the  language  was  English. 

"It's  time  to  start  back  to  the  hotel,"  said  the 
young  lady  to  her  escort,  who  was  an  elderly  gentle 
man. 

Abe  turned  to  Moe  and  Leon. 

"Excuse  me  for  a  few  minutes,"  he  said;  "I  got 
to  go  back  to  the  hotel  for  something." 

He  handed  Leon  a  twenty-franc  piece. 

"If  I  shouldn't  get  back,  pay  the  bill!"  he  cried, 
and  jumping  to  his  feet  he  followed  the  couple 
from  the  next  table. 

The  old  gentleman  walked  feebly  with  the  aid 
of  a  cane,  and  the  young  lady  held  him  by  the  arm 
as  they  proceeded  to  the  main  entrance  of  the  Grand 
Hotel.  Abe  dogged  their  footsteps  until  the  old 
gentleman  disappeared  into  the  lift  and  the  young 
lady  retired  to  the  winter  garden  that  forms  the 
interior  court  of  the  hotel.  As  she  seated  herself 
in  a  wicker  chair  Abe  approached  with  his  hat  in 
his  hand. 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS  55 

"Lady,  excuse  me,"  he  began;  "I  ain't  no  loafer. 
I'm  in  the  cloak  and  suit  business,  and  I  would  like 
to  speak  to  you  a  few  words  —  something  very 
particular." 

The  young  lady  turned  in  her  chair.  She  was  not 
alarmed,  only  surprised. 

"I  hope  you  don't  think  I  am  asking  you  anything 
out  of  the  way,"  Abe  said,  without  further  prelude; 
"but  you  got  a  dress  on,  lady,  which  I  don't  know 
how  much  you  paid  for  it,  but  if  three  hundred  of 
these  here  —  now  —  francs  would  be  any  induce 
ment  I'd  like  to  buy  it  from  you.  Of  course  I 
wouldn't  ask  you  to  take  it  off  right  now,  but  if 
you  would  leave  it  at  the  clerk's  desk  here  I  could 
call  for  it  in  half  an  hour." 

The  young  lady  made  no  reply,  instead  she  threw 
back  her  head  and  laughed  heartily. 

"It  ain't  no  joke,  lady,"  Abe  continued  as  he 
laid  three  flimsy  notes  of  the  Bank  of  France 
in  her  lap.  "That's  as  good  as  American  green 
backs." 

The  young  lady  ceased  laughing,  and  for  a  minute, 
hesitated  between  indignation  and  renewed  mirth, 
but  at  last  her  sense  of  humour  conquered. 

"Very  well,"    she    said;     "stay  here    for    a    few 


minutes." 


Half  an  hour  later  she  returned  with  the  dress 
wrapped  up  in  a  paper  parcel. 

"How  did  you  know  I  wouldn't  go  off  with  the 


56  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

money,  dress  and  all  ? "  she  asked  as  Abe  seized  the 
package. 

"I  took  a  chance,  lady,"  he  said;  "like  you  are 
doing  about  the  money  which  I  give  you  being 
good." 

"Have  no  scruples  on  that  score/'  the  young  lady 
replied.  "I  had  it  examined  at  the  clerk's  office 
just  now." 

When  M.  Adolphe  Kaufmann-Levi  bade  farewell 
to  Moe,  Abe,  Leon,  and  Hymie  Salzman,  at  the 
Gare  St.  Lazare,  he  uttered  words  of  encourage 
ment  and  cheer  which  failed  to  justify  themselves 
after  the  four  travellers'  embarkment  at  Cherbourg. 

"You  will  have  splendid  weather,"  he  had  de 
clared.  "  It  will  be  fine  all  the  way  over." 

When  the  steamer  passed  out  of  the  breakwater 
into  the  English  Channel  she  breasted  a  northeaster 
that  lasted  all  the  way  to  the  Banks.  Even  Hymie 
Salzman  went  under,  and  Leon  Sammet  walked  the 
swaying  decks  alone.  Twice  a  day  he  poked  his 
head  into  the  stateroom  occupied  by  Moe  Griesman 
and  Abe  Potash,  for  Abe  had  thrown  economy  to 
the  winds  and  had  gone  halves  with  Moe  in  the 
largest  outside  room  on  board. 

"Boys,"  Leon  would  ask,  "ain't  you  going  to 
get  up?  The  air  is  fine  on  deck." 

Had  he  but  known  it,  Moe  Griesman  developed 
day  by  day,  with  growing  intensity,  that  violent 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS  57 

hatred  for  Leon  that  the  hopelessly  seasick  feel 
toward  good  sailors;  while  toward  Abe,  who  groaned 
unceasingly  in  the  upper  berth,  Moe  Griesman 
evinced  the  affectionate  interest  that  the  poor  sailor 
evinces  in  any  one  who  suffers  more  keenly  than 
himself. 

At  length  Nantucket  lightship  was  passed,  and 
as  the  sea  grew  calmer  two  white-faced  invalids, 
that  on  close  scrutiny  might  have  been  recognized 
by  their  oldest  friends  to  be  Moe  and  Abe,  tottered 
up  the  companionway  and  sank  exhausted  into  the 
nearest  deckchairs. 

"Well,  Moe,"  Leon  cried,  as  he  bustled  toward 
them  smoking  a  large  cigar  and  clad  in  a  suit  of 
immaculate  white  flannels,  "so  you're  up  again?" 

The  silence  with  which  Moe  received  this  remark 
ought  to  have  warned  Leon,  but  he  plunged  head 
long  to  his  fate. 

"  We  are  now  only  twenty  hours  from  New  York," 
he  said,  "and  suppose  I  go  downstairs  and  bring 
you  up  some  of  them  styles  which  I  got  in  Paris." 

"You  shouldn't  trouble  yourself,"  Moe  said 
shortly. 

"Why  not?"  Leon  inquired. 

"Because,  for  all  I  care,"  Moe  replied  viciously, 
"you  could  fire  'em  overboard.  I  would  oser  buy 
from  you  a  button." 

"What's  the  matter?"  Leon  cried. 

"You  know  what's  the  matter,"  Moe  continued. 


58  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"You  come  every  day  into  my  stateroom  and  mock 
me  yet  because  I  am  sick." 

"I  mock  you!"  Leon  exclaimed. 

"That's  what  I  said,"  Moe  continued;  "and  if 
you  wouldn't  take  that  cigar  away  from  here  I'll 
break  your  neck  when  I  get  on  shore  again." 

Leon  backed  away  hurriedly  and  Moe  turned 
to  Abe. 

"Am  I  right  or  wrong?"  he  said. 

Abe  nodded.  He  was  incapable  of  audible  speech, 
but  hour  by  hour  he  grew  stronger  until  at  dinner 
time  he  was  able  to  partake  of  some  soup  and  roast 
beef,  and  even  to  listen  with  a  wan  smile  to  Moe's 
caustic  appraisement  of  Leon  Sammet's  character. 
Finally,  after  a  good  night's  rest,  Moe  and  Abe 
awoke  to  find  the  engine  stilled  at  Quarantine.  They 
were  saved  the  necessity  of  packing  their  trunks 
for  the  cogent  reason  that  they  had  been  physically 
unable  to  open  them,  let  alone  unpack  them. 
Hence  they  repaired  at  once  to  breakfast. 

Leon  was  already  seated  at  table,  and  he  hastily 
cancelled  an  order  for  Yarmouth  bloater  and  asked 
instead  for  a  less  fragrant  dish. 

"Good  morning,  Moe,"  he  said  pleasantly. 

Moe  turned  to  Abe.  "To-morrow  morning  at 
nine  o'clock,  Abe,"  he  said,  "I  would  be  down  in 
your  store  to  look  over  your  line." 

"Steward,"  Leon  Sammet  cried,  "never  mind 
that  steak.  I  would  take  the  bloater  anyhow." 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS  59 

Abe  and  Moe  breakfasted  lightly  on  egg  and  toast, 
and  returned  to  their  stateroom  as  they  passed  the 
Battery. 

"Say,  lookyhere,  Moe,"  Abe  said;  "I  want  to 
show  you  something  which  I  bought  for  you  as  a 
surprise  the  night  before  we  left  Paris.  I  got  it 
right  in  the  top  of  my  suitcase  here,  and  it  wouldn't 
take  a  minute  to  show  it  to  you." 

Abe  was  unstrapping  his  suitcase  as  he  spoke, 
and  the  next  minute  he  shook  out  the  gown  he  had 
purchased  from  the  young  lady  of  the  Cafe  de  la 
Paix,  and  exposed  it  to  Moe's  admiring  gaze. 

"How  did  you  get  hold  of  that,  Abe?"  Moe  asked. 

Abe  narrated  his  adventure  at  the  Grand  Hotel, 
while  Moe  gaped  his  astonishment. 

"I  always  thought  you  got  a  pretty  good  nerve, 
Abe,"  he  declared,  "but  this  sure  is  the  limit.  How 
much  did  you  pay  for  it?" 

"Three  hundred  of  them  —  now  —  francs,"  Abe 
replied;  "but  Fvebeen  figuring  out  the  cost  of  manu 
facturing  and  material,  and  I  could  duplicate  it  in 
New  York  for  forty  dollars  a  garment." 

"You  mean  thirty-five  dollars  a  garment,  don't 
you?"  Moe  said. 

"No,  I  don't,"  Abe  replied.  "I  mean  forty 
dollars  a  garment.  Why  do  you  say  thirty-five 
dollars?" 

"Because  at  forty  dollars  apiece,  Abe,  I  could  use 
for  my  Sarahcuse,  Rochester,  and  Buffalo  stores 


6o  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

about  fifty  of  these  garments,  and  you  ought  to 
figure  on  at  least  five  dollars'  profit  on  a  garment." 

"Well,  maybe  I  am  figuring  it  a  little  too  generous, 
y'understand;  so,  if  that  goes,  Moe,  I  will  quote 
the  selling  price  at,  say,  forty  dollars  a  garment  to 
you,  Moe." 

"Sure,  it  goes,"  Moe  said;  "and  I'll  be  at  your 
store  to-morrow  morning  at  nine  o'clock  to  decide 
on  sizes  and  shades." 

Abe's  passage  through  the  customs  examination 
was  accomplished  with  ease,  for  nearly  all  his  Paris 
purchases  were  packed  in  the  hold  to  be  cleared  by 
a  custom-house  broker.  His  stateroom  baggage 
contained  no  dutiable  articles  save  the  gown  in 
question  and  a  few  trinkets  for  Rosie,  who  was  at 
the  pier  to  greet  him.  Indeed,  she  bestowed  on  him 
a  series  of  kisses  that  reechoed  down  the  long  pier, 
and  Abe's  pallor  gave  way  to  the  sunburnt  hue  of 
his  amused  fellow-passengers.  In  one  of  them 
Abe  recognized  with  a  start  the  tanned  features  of 
the  young  lady  of  the  Cafe  de  la  Paix. 

"Moe,"  he  said,  nudging  Griesman,  "there's 
your  friend." 

Moe  turned  in  the  direction  indicated  by  Abe, 
and  his  interested  manner  was  not  unnoticed  by 
Mrs.  Potash. 

"How  is  your  dear  wife  and  daughter,  Mr.  Gries 
man?"  she  asked  significantly.  "I  suppose  you 
missed  'em  a  whole  lot." 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS  61 

When  Moe  assured  her  that  he  did  she  sniffed  so 
violently  that  it  might  have  been  taken  for  a  snort. 

"Well,  Abe,"  he  said  at  length,  "I'll  be  going  on 
to  the  Prince  Clarence,  and  I'll  see  you  in  the  store 
to-morrow  morning.  Good-by,  Mrs.  Potash." 

"Good-by,"  Mrs.  Potash  replied,  with  an  em 
phasis  that  implied  "good  riddance,"  and  then,  as 
Moe  disappeared  toward  the  street,  she  sniffed 
again.  "It  don't  take  long  for  some  loafers  to 
forget  their  wives!"  she  said. 

"Well,  Abe,"  Morris  said,  after  the  first  greetings 
had  passed  between  them  that  afternoon,  "I'm  glad 
to  see  you  back  in  the  store." 

"You  ain't  half  so  glad  to  see  me  back,  Mawruss, 
as  I  am  that  I  should  be  back,"  Abe  replied.  "Not 
that  the  trip  ain't  paid  us,  Mawruss,  because  I 
got  a  trunkful  of  samples  on  the  way  up  here  which 
I  assure  you  is  a  work  of  art." 

"Sure,  I  know!"  Morris  commented  with  just 
a  tinge  of  bitterness  in  his  tones;  "Paris  is  the  place 
for  styles.  Us  poor  suckers  over  here  don't  know 
a  thing  about  designing." 

"Well,  Mawruss,  I'll  tell  you,"  Abe  went  on: 
"you  are  a  first-class,  A  number  one  designer,  I 
got  to  admit,  and  there  ain't  nobody  that  I  consider 
is  better  as  you  in  the  whole  garment  trade;  but" 
—  here  he  paused  to  unfasten  his  suitcase  —  but, 
Mawruss,"  he  continued,  "I  got  here  just  one  sample 


62  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

style  which  I  brought  it  with  me,  Mawruss,  and  I 
think,  Mawruss,  you  would  got  to  agree  with  me, 
such  models  we  don't  turn  out  on  this  side." 

Here  he  opened  the  suitcase,  and  carefully  taking 
out  the  dress  of  the  Cafe  de  la  Paix  he  spread  it 
on  a  sample  table. 

"What  d'ye  think  of  that,  Mawruss?"  he    asked, 

Morris  made  no  answer.  He  was  gazing  at  the 
garment  with  bulging  eyes,  and  beads  of  perspira 
tion  ran  down  his  forehead. 

"Abe!"  he  gasped  at  length,  "where  did  you  get 
that  garment  from?" 

Before  Abe  could  answer,  the  elevator  door 
opened  and  a  young  lady  stepped  out.  It  was  now 
Abe's  turn  to  gasp,  for  the  visitor  was  no  other  than 
the  tanned  and  ruddy  young  person  from  the  Cafe 
de  la  Paix. 

"Good  afternoon,  Mr.  Perlmutter,"  she  said. 
"I've  just  got  back." 

"Oh,  good  afternoon,  Miss  Smith!"  Morris 
cried. 

"I  hope  I'm  not  interrupting  you,"  she  con 
tinued. 

"Not  at  all,"  Morris  said;  "not  at  all." 

Then  a  wave  of  recollection  came  over  him,  and 
he  muttered  a  half-smothered  exclamation. 

"Abe,  Miss  Smith,"  he  almost  shouted,  and  then 
he  sat  down.  "Say,  lookyhere,  Abe,  what  is  all 
this,  anyway?  Miss  Smith  comes  in  here  and " 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS  63' 

"Well,  upon  my  word!"  Miss  Smith  interrupted; 
"if  it  isn't  the  gentleman  from  the  Cafe  de  la  Paix  — 
and,  of  all  things,  there  is  the  very  dress!" 

Abe  shrugged  his  shoulder? 

"That's  right,  Miss  Whatever-your-name  is," 
Abe  admitted;  "that's  the  dress,  and  since  I  paid 
you  sixty  dollars  for  it  I  don't  think  you  got  any 
kick  coming." 

"Sixty  dollars!"  Morris  cried.  "Why,  that  dress 
as  a  sample  garment  only  cost  us  twenty-two-fifty 
to  make  up." 

"Cost  us?"  Abe  repeated.  "As  a  sample  gar 
ment?  What  are  you  talking  about?" 

"I  am  talking  about  this,  Abe,"  Morris  replied: 
"that  dress  is  the  self-same  garment  which  I  designed 
it,  and  which  you  says  was  rotten  and  freaky,  and 
which  I  give  it  to  Miss  Smith  here  for  a  present, 
and  which  you  paid  Miss  Smith  sixty  dollars  for." 

"And  here  is  the  sixty  dollars  now,"  Miss  Smith 
broke  in.  "I  hurried  here  as  fast  as  I  could  to  give 
it  to  you,  Mr.  Perlmutter." 

"One  moment,"  Abe  said.  "I  don't  know  who 
this  young  lady  is  or  nothing;  but  do  you  mean  ta 
told  me  that  this  here  dress  which  I  bought  it  in 
Paris  was  made  up  right  here  in  our  place?" 

"Here,  Abe,"  Morris  said,  "I  want  to  show  you 
something.  Here  is  from  the  same  goods  a  garment, 
and  them  goods  as  you  know  we  get  it  from  the 
Hamsuckett  Mills.  So  far  what  I  hear  it,  the 


64  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Hamsuckett  Mills  don't  sell  their  output  in  Paris. 
Am  I  right  or  wrong?" 

Abe  nodded  slowly. 

"Well,  Mr.  Perlmutter,"  Miss  Smith  said,  "here's 
your  sixty  dollars.  I've  got  to  get  back  to  my 
patient.  You  know  that  I  went  to  Paris  with  a 
rheumatic  case,  and  I've  left  the  old  gentleman  in 
charge  of  a  friend.  I  came  here  to  settle  up." 

"Excuse  me,"  said  Abe;  "I  ain't  been  introduced 
to  this  young  lady  yet." 

"Why,  I  thought  you  knew  her,"  Morris  said. 
"This  is  Miss  Smith,  the  trained  nurse  which  was 
so  good  to  my  Minnie  when  my  Abie  was  born." 

"Is  that  so?"  Abe  cried.  "Well,  Miss  Smith, 
you  should  take  that  sixty  dollars  and  keep  it, 
because,  Mawruss,  on  the  way  over  I  sold  Moe 
Griesman  fifty  garments  of  that  there  style  of  yours 
at  forty  dollars  apiece." 

"You  don't  say  so!"  Morris  cried.  "You  don't 
say  so!  Well,  all  I  got  to  say  is,  Miss  Smith,  in 
the  first  place,  if  Abe  wouldn't  of  told  you  to  keep 
that  sixty  dollars  I  sure  would  of  done  so,  and  in  the 
second  place,  I  want  you  to  come  in  here  next  week 
and  pick  out  half  a  dozen  dresses.  Ain't  that  right, 
Abe?" 

"I  bet  yer  that's  right,  Mawruss;  we  wouldn't 
take  no  for  an  answer,"  Abe  replied.  "And  you 
should  also  leave  us  your  name  and  address.  Miss 
Smith,  because,  Gott  soil  huten,  if  I  should  be  sick, 


THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS  65 

y'understand,  I   don't  want  nobody  else   to  nurse 
me  but  you." 

"Say,  lookyhere,  Abe,"  Morris  said  the  following 
morning,  "that  trunkful  of  Paris  samples  which  the 
custom-house  says  we  would  get  this  morning  ain't 
come  yet." 

Abe  clapped  his  partner  on  the  shoulder  and 
grinned  happily. 

"What  do  I  care,  Mawruss?"  he  said.  "For  my 
part  they  should  never  come.  I  ain't  got  no  use 
for  Paris  fashions  at  all.  Styles  which  Mawruss 
Perlmutter  originates  is  good  enough  for  me,  be 
cause  I  always  said  it,  Mawruss,  you  are  a  cracker- 
jack,  high-grade,  A  number  one  designer!" 


CHAPTER  THREE 
DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES 

THERE  goes  that  sucker,  Aaron  Kronberg, 
from  Port  Sullivan,"  Abe  Potash  declared 
to  his  partner,  Morris  Perlmutter,  as  they 
looked  from  the  windows  of  their  showroom  to  the 
opposite  sidewalk  some  four  stories  below.     "Ain't 
it  funny  that  feller  would  never  buy  from  us  a 
dollar's  worth  more  goods?" 

"The  reason  ain't  hard  to  find,  Abe,"  Morris 
replied.  "Oncet  a  garment  buyer  gets  into  the 
hands  of  a  competitor  like  Leon  Sammet,  it's  all 
off.  I  bet  yer  Leon  tells  him  we  are  all  kinds  of 
crooks  and  swindlers." 

"What  could  you  expect  from  a  cut-throat  like 
Leon  Sammet?  That  feller  is  no  good  and  his  father 
before  him  is  also  a  thief.  I  know  his  people  from 
the  old  country  yet.  One  was  worser  as  the  other." 

"Well,  there's  nothing  the  matter  with  Aaron's 
cousin,  Alex  Kronberg,  anyhow,"  Morris  observed. 
"That  feller  does  a  fine  business  in  Bridgetown, 
and  Sammet  Brothers  could  no  more  take  his  trade 
away  from  us  than  they  could  fly." 

66 


DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES  67 

"That  ain't  our  fault,  Mawruss,"  Abe  rejoined. 
"Sammet  Brothers  is  fly  enough  to  do  anything, 
Mawruss;  but,  the  way  Aaron  Kronberg  hates 
Alex  Kronberg,  if  they  was  to  sell  Alex  a  single 
garment,  y'understand,  Aaron  would  never  buy 
from  them  a  dollar's  worth  more  goods  so  long  as 
he  lived." 

"Ain't  it  a  disgrace  them  two  fellers  is  such 
enemies,  Abe?" 

"Alex  ain't  no  enemy,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said. 
"It's  Aaron  what's  the  enemy.  Alex  don't  trouble 
himself  at  all.  He  told  me  so  himself.  But  that's 
the  way  it  goes,  Mawruss.  Mosha  Kronberg, 
Hillel  Kronberg,  and  Elkan  Kronberg  was  three 
brothers  which  you  don't  see  nowadays  at  all  — 
more  like  friends  than  brothers,  Mawruss.  Hillel 
died  ten  years  ago  and  I  thought  it  would  broke 
Mosha's  heart.  He  looked  after  Hillel's  widow  and 
Hillel's  boy,  Alex,  because  Mosha  never  married, 
Mawruss.  He  was  a  born  uncle.  Then,  when 
Elkan  died  a  year  later,  I  never  seen  a  feller  so 
broke  up  like  Mosha  in  all  my  life.  He  goes  to 
work  and  sends  Elkan's  boy,  Aaron,  to  business 
college,  and  Elkan's  widow  he  takes  to  live  with 
Hillel's  widow,  all  together  with  himself  and  the 
two  boys  in  that  house  of  his  on  Madison  Street. 
For  three  years  they  lived  that  way,  and  in  the 
rest  of  the  house  Mosha  couldn't  keep  any  tenants 
at  all.  At  last  he  gives  Aaron  a  couple  thousand 


68  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

dollars  and  Alex  the  same,  and  Aaron  buys  a  store  up 
in  Port  Sullivan,  and  Alex  goes  up  to  Bridgetown." 

"What  become  of  the  widows,  Abe?"  Morris 
asked. 

"I  don't  know  is  Elkan's  widow  living  now  oder 
not,"  Abe  said,  "but  Mosha  told  me  Hillel's  widow 
wants  to  get  married  again,  and  Alex  comes  to  him 
and  says  he  should  give  the  old  lady  anyhow  a 
thousand  dollars.  Mosha  wants  to  know  what 
for,  and  Alex  tells  him  he  owes  from  Hillel's  estate 
yet  a  couple  thousand  dollars." 

"And  did  he?"  Morris  inquired. 

"Suppose  he  did?"  Abe  replied.  "He  is  entitled 
to  it  after  what  he  puts  up  with  during  them  three 
years  they  lived  together.  Well,  Mosha  and  Alex 
gets  right  away  fighting  about  it,  and  I  guess  Alex 
would  of  sued  Mosha  in  the  courts  yet,  only  the  old 
lady  goes  to  work  and  dies  on  'em  all  of  a  sudden." 

"But  why  is  Aaron  and  Alex  such  enemies, 
Abe?"  Morris  asked. 

"Well,  it's  like  this,  Mawruss:  Aaron  and  Alex  is 
good  friends  until  Uncle  Mosha  cut  Alex  out  of  his 
will.  You  see  Aaron  and  Alex  is  the  only  two 
relations  which  Mosha  got  at  all.  So  naturally 
when  Aaron  thinks  he  is  coming  in  for  the  whole 
thing  he  begins  to  get  sore  at  Alex,  and  the  more 
Aaron  thinks  that  the  old  man  really  ought  to  leave 
half  to  Alex,  the  more  he  gets  sore  at  Alex." 

"The    whole    business    is    dead    wrong,    Abe," 


DEAD  MEN'S   SHOES  69 

Morris  commented.  "In  the  first  place,  the  old 
man  ain't  got  no  right  to  leave  his  money  only  to 
Aaron;  and  in  the  second  place,  Aaron  ain't  got  no 
right  to  feel  sore  at  Alex.  And  furthermore  Alex 
ought  to  go  round  and  see  his  uncle  oncet  in  a  while 
when  he  is  in  New  York,  in  the  third  place." 

"Well,  why  don't  you  tell  him  so  this  afternoon, 
Mawruss?"  Abe  said.  "Alex  is  staying  up  at  the 
Prince  Clarence  since  last  night  already,  and  he 
said  he  would  be  sure  down  here  this  afternoon." 

"I  will  do  so,"  Morris  replied  firmly. 

"Go  ahead,"  Abe  added,  "only  one  thing  I  got 
to  tell  you,  Mawruss.  There  is  some  customers 
which  would  stand  anything,  Mawruss.  You 
could  ship  'em  two  garments  short  in  every  order; 
you  could  send  'em  goods  which  ain't  no  more 
like  the  sample  than  bread  is  like  motsos;  you  could 
overcharge  'em  in  your  statements;  you  could  even 
draw  on  'em  one  day  after  their  account  is  due,  and 
still  they  would  buy  goods  of  you;  but  so  soon  as 
you  start  to  butt  into  their  family  affairs,  Mawruss, 
that's  the  finish,  Mawruss.  They  would  leave  you 
like  a  shot." 

"Alex  Kronberg  wouldn't  take  it  so  particular," 
Morris  retorted.  "He  knows  I  am  only  doing  it 
for  his  own  good." 

"Oh,  if  you  are  only  doing  it  for  his  own  good, 
Mawruss,  then  that's  something  again,"  Abe  said; 
"because  in  that  case  we  would  not  only  lose  him 


70  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

for  a  customer,  Mawruss,  but  we  would  also  make 
an  enemy  of  him  for  life." 

"You  shouldn't  worry,"  Morris  replied  as  he 
put  on  his  hat  preparatory  to  going  out  to  lunch. 
"I  know  how  to  take  care  of  a  customer  all  right." 

Nevertheless  Morris  cogitated  his  partner's  ad 
vice  throughout  the  entire  lunch  hour,  and  over 
his  dessert  he  commenced  to  formulate  a  tentative 
plan  for  restoring  Alex  Kronberg  to  his  inheritance. 

Two  cups  of  coffee  and  a  second  helping  of  mohn 
cake  aided  the  process  of  celebrating  this  scheme, 
so  that  when  Morris  returned  to  his  place  of  busi 
ness  it  was  nearly  two  o'clock. 

"Abe,"  he  said  as  he  entered,  "I've  been  thinking 
over  this  here  matter  about  Alex  Kronberg,  and  I 
ain't  going  to  talk  to  Alex  about  it  at  all.  Do  you 
know  what  I'm  going  to  do?" 

Abe  grabbed  his  hat  and  turned  to  Morris  with 
a  savage  glare. 

"  Sure,  I  know  what  you  are  going  to  do,  Mawruss," 
Potash  bellowed  belligerently.  "Henceforth,  from 
to-morrow  on,  you  are  going  to  do  this,  Mawruss: 
you  are  going  to  lunch  after  I  am  coming  back.  I 
could  drop  dead  from  hunger  already  for  all  you 
care.  I  got  a  stomach  too,  Mawruss,  and  don't 
you  forget  it." 

Mosha  Kronberg  lived  on  the  ground  floor  of  his 
own  tenement  house  on  Madison  Street,  and  to  say 


DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES  71 

that  Aaron  Kronberg  worshipped  the  ground  his 
uncle  walked  on  would  be  to  utter  the  literal  truth. 

"Well,  uncle,  how  do  you  feel  to-day?"  Aaron 
inquired  the  morning  after  Abe  and  Morris  had  so 
thoroughly  discussed  the  Kronberg  family  relations. 

"I  could  feel  a  whole  lot  better,  Aaron,  and  I 
could  feel  a  whole  lot  worse,"  Mosha  Kronberg 
replied.  "Them  suckers  has  been  after  me  again." 

"Which  ones  are  they  now?"  Aaron  asked,  his 
curiosity  aroused. 

"An  orphan  asylum,"  Mosha  replied.  "The 
gall  which  some  people  got  it,  Aaron,  honestly  you 
wouldn't  believe  it  at  all.  They  want  me  I  should 
give  'em  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  I  told  'em 
time  enough  when  I  would  die,  Gott  soil  hilten. " 

"What  are  you  talking  nonsense,  Uncle  Mosha?" 
Aaron  broke  in.  "You  ain't  going  to  die  for  a  long 
time  yet;  and  anyhow,  Uncle  Mosha,  if  people  goes 
to  work  and  has  children  which  they  couldn't 
support  while  they  are  living  even,  why  should  they 
get  any  of  your  money  to  support  'em  after  you  are 
dead?  No  one  asks  them  suckers  they  should  have 
children.  Ain't  I  right?" 

"Sure  you  are  right,"  Uncle  Mosha  agreed. 
"Hospitals  also,  Aaron.  If  I  got  one  hospital 
bothering  me,  I  must  got  a  dozen.  Why  should  I 
bother  myself  with  hospitals,  Aaron?  A  lowlife, 
a  gambler,  hangs  around  liquor  saloons  all  times 
of  the  night  till  he  gets  sick,  y'understand,  and  then 


72  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS* 

he  must  go  to  a  hospital  and  get  well  on  my  money- 
yet.  I  see  myself!" 

"What  hospital  was  it? "Aaron  inquired. 

"The  Mount  Hebron  Hospital,"  Uncle  Mosha 
replied.  "There  is  the  catalogue  now.  They  are 
sending  it  me  this  morning  only." 

Aaron  seized  the  annual  report  and  list  of  dona 
ting  members  of  the  hospital  and  opened  it  at  the 
letter  K. 

"Do  you  know  what  I  think,  uncle?"  Aaron 
cried.  "I  think  that  Alex  Kronberg  puts  'em  up 
to  asking  you  for  money." 

"Alex  puts  'em  up  to  it?"  Mosha  repeated. 
"What  for  should  Alex  do  such  a  thing?" 

"Here;  let  me  show  you,"  Aaron  cried.  "Alex 
himself  gives  them  fakers  five  dollars.  Here  it  is 
in  black  on  white:  'Alex  Kronberg,  Bridgetown, 
Pennsylvania,  five  dollars.'  " 

Uncle  Mosha  adjusted  a  pair  of  eyeglasses  to  his 
broad,  flat  nose  and  perused  the  record  of  his 
nephew's  extravagance  with  bulging  eyes. 

"Well,  what  d'ye  think  for  a  sucker  like  that!" 
he  exclaimed. 

"I  tell  you  the  honest  truth,  uncle,"  Aaron  said, 
"I  don't  want  to  say  nothing  about  Alex  at  all, 
but  the  way  that  feller  is  acting,  just  because  he 
does  a  little  good  business  in  his  store,  honestly  it's 
a  disgrace.  He  sends  my  mother  for  ten  dollars 
a  birthday  present  too.  Do  I  need  that  sucker  he 


DEAD   MEN'S   SHOES  73 

should  give  my  mother  birthday  presents?  He  is 
throwing  away  his  money  left  and  right,  and  the 
first  thing  you  know  he  is  coming  to  you  borrowing 
yet." 

"He  should  save  himself  the  trouble,"  Uncle 
Mosha  declared.  "His  tongue  should  be  hanging 
out  of  his  mouth  with  hunger,  Aaron,  and  I  wouldn't 
give  him  oser  one  cent." 

Aaron's  face  broke  into  a  thousand  wrinkles 
as  he  beamed  his  satisfaction. 

"Well,  uncle,"  he  said,  "I  must  got  to  be  going. 
I  got  a  whole  lot  of  things  to  do  to-day.  Take  care 
of  yourself." 

"Don't  worry  about  me,"  Aaron's  Uncle  Mosha 
replied.  "I  could  take  care  of  myself  all  right. 
You  wouldn't  drink  maybe  a  glass  of  schnaps  or 
something  before  you  go?  No?  All  right." 

He  always  delayed  his  proffer  of  hospitality  until 
Aaron  was  on  the  front  stoop.  After  the  latter 
had  turned  the  corner  of  Pike  Street,  Uncle  Mosha 
lingered  to  take  the  morning  air.  A  fresh  breeze 
from  the  southwest  brought  with  it  a  faint  odour 
of  salt  herring  and  onions  from  the  grocery  store 
next  door,  while  from  the  bakery  across  the  street 
came  the  fragrant  evidence  of  a  large  batch  of 
Kiimmel  brod.  He  sighed  contentedly  and  turned 
to  reenter  the  house,  but  even  as  he  did  so  he  wheeled 
about  in  response  to  the  greeting:  "How  do  you 
do,  Mr.  Kronberg?" 


74  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

The  speaker  was  none  other  than  Morris  Perl- 
mutter,  who  had  tossed  on  his  pillow  until  past 
midnight  devising  a  plan  for  approaching  Uncle 
Mosha  in  a  plausible  manner.  Now  that  his  quarry 
had  fallen  so  opportunely  within  his  grasp,  Morris's 
face  wreathed  itself  in  smiles  of  such  amiability 
that  Uncle  Mosha  grew  at  once  suspicious. 

"You  got  the  advantage  from  me,"  he  said. 

"Why,  don't  you  know  me?"  Morris  cooed. 

"I  think,"  Uncle  Mosha  replied  guardedly,  "I 
seen  you  oncet  before  somewheres.  You  are  a  col 
lector  for  a  hospital  or  a  orphan  asylum,  or  some 
such  sucker  game.  Ain't  it?" 

Morris  laughed  mirthlessly.  His  discarded  plan 
for  renewing  his  acquaintance  with  Uncle  Mosha 
had  involved  the  pretence  that  he  was  seeking  to 
interest  the  old  gentleman  in  the  Home  for  Chronic 
Invalids,  Independent  Order  Mattai  Aaron,  of 
which  fraternity  Morris  was  an  active  member;  and 
Uncle  Mosha's  apparent  distaste  for  organized 
charity  proved  rather  disconcerting. 

"You're  a  poor  guesser,  Mr.  Kronberg,"  he  said. 

"Then  you  are  connected  with  some  charity. 
Ain't  it?"  Uncle  Mosha  continued. 

Morris  denied  it  indignantly. 

"Gott  soil  huten"  he  said.  "My  name  is  Mr. 
Perlmutter  and  I  am  in  the  cloak  and  suit  busi 


ness." 


"Oh,    I    remember   now!"   Uncle   Mosha   cried. 


DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES  75 

The  news  that  Morris  was  no  charity  worker  re 
stored  him  to  high  good-humour. 

"I  remember  you  perfect  now,"  he  said,  shaking 
hands  effusively  with  Morris.  "You  got  a  partner 
by  the  name  Potash,  ain't  it?" 

"That's  right,"  Morris  replied. 

"And  what  brings  you  over  here  in  this  nach- 
barschaft?"  Uncle  Mosha  inquired. 

Morris  looked  from  Uncle  Mosha  to  the  tarnished 
brass  plate  on  the  side  of  the  tenement-house  door. 
It  read  as  follows: 


M.    KRONBERG 
REAL    ESTATE 


"The  fact  is,"  Morris  said,  "I  am  coming  to 
see  you  in  a  business  way,  and  if  you  got  time  I'd 
like  to  say  a  little  something  to  you." 

"Come  inside,"  Uncle  Mosha  grunted.  He 
thought  he  discerned  a  furtive  timidity  in  his  visitor's 
manner  strongly  indicative  of  an  impending  touch. 

"In  the  first  place,"  he  began,  after  Morris  was 
seated,  "I  ain't  got  so  much  money  which  people 
think  I  got  it." 

"I  never  thought  you  did,"  said  Morris,  and 
Uncle  Mosha  glared  in  response. 

"But  I  ain't  no  beggar  neither,  y'understand," 
he  retorted.  "  I  got  a  little  something  left,  anyhow." 


76  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Morris  agreed;  "but  what  you 
have  got  or  what  you  ain't  got  is  neither  here  or 
there.  I  am  coming  over  this  morning  to  ask  you 
something,  a  question." 

Here  he  paused.  He  had  not  yet  determined 
what  the  question  would  be,  and  it  occurred  to  him 
that,  unless  it  were  sufficiently  momentous  to 
account  for  his  presence  on  the  lower  East  Side 
during  the  busiest  hours  of  a  business  day,  Uncle 
Mosha  would  show  him  the  door. 

"Go  ahead  and  ask  it,  then,"  Uncle  Mosha  broke 
in  impatiently.  "I  couldn't  sit  here  all  day." 

"The  fact  is,"  Morris  said  slowly,  and  then  his 
mind  reverted  to  the  brass  plate  on  the  door  and  he 
at  once  proceeded  with  renewed  confidence  —  "the 
fact  is  I  am  coming  over  here  to  ask  you  something, 
a  question  which  a  friend  of  mine  would  like  to 
buy  a  property  on  the  East  Side." 

"A  property,"  Uncle  Mosha  repeated.  "A 
property  is  something  else  again.  What  for  a  prop 
erty  would  your  friend  like  to  buy  it?" 

"A  fine  property,"  Morris  replied;  "a  property 
like  you  got  it  here." 

"But  this  here  property  ain't  for  sale,"  Uncle 
Mosha  said.  "I  got  the  house  here  now  since  1890 
already,  and  I  guess  I  would  keep  it." 

"Sure,  I  know;  that's  all  right,"  Morris  went  on; 
"but  I  thought,  even  if  you  wouldn't  want  to  sell 
the  house,  you  know  such  a  whole  lot  about  real 


DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES  77 

estate,  Mr.  Kronberg,  you  could  help  us  out  a 
little." 

The  hard  lines  about  Uncle  Mosha's  mouth  re 
laxed  into  a  smile. 

"Well,  when  it  comes  to  real  estate/'  he  said, 
"I  ain't  a  fool  exactly,  y'understand." 

"That's  what  I  was  told,"  Morris  continued.  "A 
friend  of  mine  he  says  to  me:  'If  any  one  could  tell 
you  about  real  estate,  Mosha  Kronberg  could. 
There's  a  man,'  he  says,  Vhich  his  opinion  you 
could  trust  in  it  anything  what  he  says  is  so.  If 
the  Astors  and  the  Goelets  would  know  about 
East  Side  real  estate  what  that  feller  knows  — • 
understand  me  —  instead  of  their  hundreds  of 
millions  they  would  have  thousands  of  millions 
already.'" 

Uncle  Mosha  fairly  beamed. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Kronberg,"  Morris  went  on,  without 
taking  breath,  "he  says  to  me:  'You  should  go 
and  see  Uncle  Mosha;  he's  a  gentleman  and  he 
would  treat  you  right.'  'But,'  I  says  to  him,  'I 
ain't  got  no  right  to  butt  in  on  your  Uncle  Mosha. 
You  see,  Alex,'  I  says " 

"Alex!"  Uncle  Mosha  cried.  " Did  Alex  Kron 
berg  send  you  here?" 

"That's  who  it  was,"  Morris  replied. 

"Then  all  I  could  say  is,"  Uncle  Mosha  thun 
dered,  "you  should  go  right  back  to  Alex  and  tell 
him  from  me  that  I  says  any  friend  of  his  which 


78  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

he  comes  to  me  looking  for  information  about 
real  estate,  he's  lucky  I  don't  kick  him  into  the 
street  yet." 

He  jumped  up  from  his  chair  and  opened  the  door 
leading  into  the  public  hall. 

"Go  on,"  he  roared,  "out  from  my  house." 

Morris  rose  leisurely  to  his  feet  and  pulled  a  large 
cigar  from  his  pocket. 

"If  that's  the  way  you  feel  about  it,  Mr.  Kron- 
berg,"  he  said  gently,  "  schon  gut.  I  wouldn't 
bother  you  any  more.  At  the  same  time,  Mr. 
Kronberg,  if  ever  you  should  want  to  sell  the  house, 
y'understand,  let  me  know;  that's  all."  As  he 
passed  out  of  the  door  he  laid  the  cigar  on  a  side 
table  and  its  bright  red  band  immediately  caught 
the  eye  of  Uncle  Mosha.  He  pounced  on  it  and 
was  about  to  hurl  it  after  his  departing  visitor  when 
something  about  the  smoothness  of  the  wrapper 
made  him  pause.  Five  minutes  later  he  lolled  back 
in  a  horsehair-covered  rocker  and  puffed  contentedly 
at  Morris's  cigar.  "After  all,"  he  said,  "  I  might  get 
a  good  price  for  the  house  anyway." 

From  Mosha  Kronberg's  tenement  nouse  on 
Madison  Street  to  the  cloak  and  suit  district,  at 
Nineteenth  Street  and  Fifth  Avenue,  is  less  than 
two  miles  as  the  crow  flies,  but  Morris  Perlmutter's 
journey  uptown  was  accomplished  in  less  direct 
fashion.  He  spent  over  half  an  hour  in  an  anti- 


DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES  79 

quated  horse  car  and  by  the  time  the  Broadway 
car  to  which  he  transferred  had  reached  Madison 
Square  it  was  nearly  twelve  o'clock.  As  he  walked 
down  Nineteenth  Street  he  almost  collided  with 
Abe,  whose  face  wore  a  frown. 

"Say,  lookyhere,  Mawruss!"  he  cried.  "What 
kind  of  business  is  this?  Here  you  are  just  getting 
downtown  and  I  am  going  out  to  lunch  already." 

"Sure, , I  know,"  Morris  retorted.  "You  think 
of  nothing  but  your  stomach.  Believe  me,  Abe, 
I  worked  hard  enough  this  morning." 

"Worked  nothing!"  Abe  rejoined.  "You  have 
been  up  to  some  monkey  business,  Mawruss;  other 
wise  why  should  Mosha  Kronberg  telephone  us 
just  now  he  thought  the  matter  over  since  you  left 
there  and  he  would  be  up  to  see  you  this  afternoon 
already." 

"What!"  Morris  cried.  "Did  Mosha  Kronberg 
telephone  that  himself?" 

"All  right,  Mawruss;  then  I  am  a  liar!"  Abe 
exploded.  "I  am  telling  you  with  my  own  ears  I 
heard  him." 

"I  believe  you,  Abe,"  Morris  said  soothingly. 
"Don't  hurry  back  from  your  lunch.  I  got  lots 
of  time." 

"I  would  hurry  back  oder  not,  as  I  please,  Maw 
russ,"  Abe  retorted  as  he  trudged  off  toward  Ham 
mersmith's  restaurant.  There  he  ministered  to 
his  outraged  feelings  with  a  steaming  dish  of 


8o  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

gefullte  rinderbrust,  and  it  was  not  till  he  had  sopped 
up  the  last  drop  of  gravy  with  a  piece  of  rye  bread 
that  he  became  conscious  of  a  stranger  sitting 
opposite  to  him. 

"Excuse  me,"  said  the  latter,  "you  got  a  little 
soup  on  the  lapel  of  your  coat." 

"That  ain't  soup,"  Abe  explained,  as  he  dipped 
his  napkin  in  his  glass  of  ice-water  and  started  to 
remove  the  stain;  "that's  a  little  gefullte  rinder- 
brust,  which  they  fix  it  so  thin  and  watery  nowadays 
it  might  just  as  well  be  soup  the  way  it's  always 
getting  over  your  clothes." 

"Things  ain't  the  same  like  they  used  to  be," 
the  stranger  remarked.  "Twenty — twenty-five 
years  ago  a  feller  could  get  a  meal  down  on  Canal 
Street  for  a  quarter  —  understand  me  —  which  it 
was  really  something  you  could  say  was  remarkable. 
Take  any  of  them  places,  Gifkin's  oder  Wasser- 
bauer's.  Ain't  I  right?" 

"Did  you  used  to  went  to  Gifkin's?  "Abe  asked. 

"I  should  say!"  his  vis-a-vis  replied.  "When 
I  was  a  boy  of  fifteen  I  am  eating  always  regularly 
by  Gifkin's." 

"Me  too.  I  used  to  eat  a  whole  lot  by  Gifkin's," 
Abe  said;  "in  fact,  I  think  I  must  of  seen  you 
there." 

"I  shouldn't  wonder,"  the  stranger  continued. 
"At  the  time  I  was  working  by  old  man  Baum  right 
across  from  Gifkin's.  He  was  my  uncle  already." 


DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES  81 

"You  are  old  man  Baum's  nephew!"  Abe  ex 
claimed.  "How  could  that  be?  Old  man  Baum 
only  got  one  brother,  Nathan,  which  he  got  mixed 
up  in  a  railroad  accident  near  Knoxville.  He  was 
always  up  to  some  monkey  business,  that  feller, 
olav  hasholom." 

"Sure,  I  know,"  the  stranger  continued;  "but 
old  man  Baum  got  also  one  sister,  my  mother,  Mrs. 
Gershon.  You  must  remember  my  father,  Sam 
Gershon.  Works  for  years  by  Richter  as  a  cutter. 
My  name  is  Mr.  Max  Gershon." 

"Why,  sure  I  do!"  Abe  said,  shaking  hands  with 
his  new-found  acquaintance.  "  So  you  are  a  son  of 
old  man  Gershon?  Do  you  live  here  in  New  York, 
Mr.  Gershon?" 

"No;  I  live  in  Johnsville,  Texas,"  Mr.  Gershon 
replied.  "This  is  my  first  visit  North  in  twenty- 
five  years.  Yes,  Mr.  —  er " 

"Potash,"  Abe  said. 

"Mr.  Potash,"  Gershon  continued,  "I'm  feeling 
pretty  lonesome,  I  can  tell  you.  All  my  folks  is 
dead:  my  father,  my  mother,  my  two  uncles;  and 
there  ain't  a  soul  here  in  New  York  which 
remembers  me  at  all." 

"Is  that  so?"  Abe  commented,  with  ready  sym 
pathy. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Potash,"  Gershon  said,  "when  I  was 
a  boy  I  done  a  fool  thing.  When  I  was  sixteen 
years  old  already  I  run  away  from  home  because 


82  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

my  father  licked  me;  and  I  never  wrote  to  'em  or 
sent  no  word  to  'em  until  it  was  too  late.     You  see, 
up  to  five  years  since,  I  didn't  done  so  good.     Every 
thing  seemed  to  went   against   me,    Mr.    Potash;  ; 
but  lately  I  am  doing  a   fine  business   for  a   small 
place  like   Johnsville,  and  to-day   I    got    the^best' 
store  down  there." 

"You  don't  say  so!"  Abe  cried. 

"So  I  thought  last  month,  instead  I  would  go  to 
Dallas  or  Forth  Worth  like  I  usually  done,  I  would 
come  straight  on  to  New  York  and  not  only  buy  my 
fall  goods  but  also  give  the  old  folks  a  surprise. 
And  what  do  I  find?  Everybody  is  dead." 

Mr.  Gershon  pressed  a  handkerchief  to  his  eyes. 

"You  shouldn't  take  on  so,"  Abe  said,  leaning 
across  the  table  and  placing  his  hand  on  Gershon's 
arm.  "It's  the  way  of  the  world,  Mr.  Gershon, 
and  I  could  assure  you  we  got  the  finest  line  of 
garments  in  our  store,  which  it  is  first-class  stuff, 
up  to  the  minute,  and  prices  and  everything -just 
right." 

Mr.  Gershon  wiped  his  eyes. 

"You  must  excuse  me,  Mr.  Potash,"  he  said. 
"My  feelings  is  got  the  better  of  me." 

"That's  all  right,"  Abe  murmured.  "Here  is 
our  card,  and  you  should  positively  come  up  to  see 
us.  Even  if  you  wouldn't  buy  from  us  a  button, 
Mr.  Gershon,  it  would  be  a  pleasure  for  us  to  see 
you  in  our  place." 


DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES  83 

"I  would  sure  be  there,"  Mr.  Gershon  said  as  he 
pocketed  the  card. 

"Waiter,"  Abe  called,  "put  this  here  gentleman's 
check  on  mine  and  bring  us  two  of  them  thirty-cent 
cigars." 

So  eagerly  did  Morris  await  the  advent  of  Uncle 
Mosha  Kronberg  in  Potash  &  Perlmutter's  store 
that  he  even  omitted  to  notice  his  partner's  pro 
longed  absence  at  lunch;  and  when  Abe  : returned 
to  unfold  the  narrative  of  his  meeting  with  a 
prospective  customer  Morris  heard  it  without 
interest. 

"The  feller  is  A  number  one,  Mawruss,"  Abe 
said.  "  I  stopped  off  to  see  Sam  Feder  at  the  Kos- 
ciusko  Bank,  and  Sam  sent  me  to  the  Associated 
Information  Bureau.  He  is  rated  twenty  to  thirty 
thousand;  credit  good." 

"Yes?"  Morris  replied.  "Tell  me,  Abe,  did 
Mosha  Kronberg  say  just  when  he  would  be  here?" 

"What  are  you  wasting  your  time  about  Mosha 
Kronberg  for?"  Abe  retorted.  "We  got  enough 
to  do  we  should  pick  out  a  few  good  styles  to  show 
Gershon." 

Morris  nodded  absently.  His  thoughts  were 
centred  on  a  short  old  man  with  close-cropped 
beard  who  at  that  very  moment  was  turning  the 
corner  of  Fifth  Avenue  and  Nineteenth  Street. 
Simultaneously  Aaron  Kronberg  ran  across  the 


84  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

street  from  Sammet  Brothers'  doorway  and  clapped 
the  old  gentleman  on  the  shoulder. 

"Hello,  Uncle  Mosha!"  he  cried.  "What  are 
you  doing  around  here?" 

"Couldn't  I  come  uptown  oncet  in  a  while  if  I 
would  want  to?"  Uncle  Mosha  replied,  somewhat 
testily. 

"Sure,  sure,"  Aaron  Kronberg  hastened  to  say. 
"Did  you  eat  yet?" 

"I  never  eat  in  the  middle  of  the  day,"  Uncle 
Mosha  said.  "I  am  up  here  on  business." 

"On  business?"  Aaron  repeated.  "What  for 
business?" 

"I  think  I  sold  the  house,"  Mosha  replied. 

For  one  brief  moment  Aaron  gazed  at  his  uncle 
and  then  he  linked  his  arm  in  that  of  the  old  man. 
"Come  over  to  Twenty-third  Street  and  drink  any 
how  a  cup  of  coffee,"  he  said,  and  ten  minutes  later 
they  entered  an  enamelled  brick  dairy  restaurant. 

"You  say  you  think  you  sold  the  house?"  Aaron 
said,  after  a  waitress  had  served  them. 

Uncle  Mosha  nodded.  He  was  emptying  a  cup 
of  coffee  in  long,  noisy  inhalations  and  at  the  same 
time  consuming  cheese  sandwiches  with  uncom 
monly  keen  appetite  —  for  a  man  who  never  ate  in 
the  middle  of  the  day. 

"Yes,  Aaron,"  Uncle  Mosha  said,  as  he  emerged 
all  dripping  from  the  cup,  "I  think  I  sold  the  house, 
and  I  guess  I  would  have  another  cup  coffee." 


DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES  85 

"Go  ahead,"  Aaron  replied.  "  But  what  for  you 
want  to  sell  the  house,  Uncle  Mosha?  It  brings 
you  in  anyhow  a  good  income." 

"A  good  income  for  some  people,  Aaron,  but  for 
me  not.  What  is  one  thousand  a  year,  Aaron?" 

"One  thousand  a  year,  uncle,  is  a  whole  lot, 
especially  to  a  man  like  you,  what  lives  simple." 

"My  living  expenses  is  very  little,  I  admit, 
Aaron,"  Uncle  Mosha  replied,  after  he  had  disposed 
of  the  second  cup  of  coffee  with  noises  approximat 
ing  a  bathtubful  of  soapy  water  disappearing  down 
the  wastepipe.  "I  don't  make  no  fuss  about  my 
living,  Aaron,  but  you  got  to  remember,  Aaron, 
that  a  man  couldn't  live  on  living  expenses  alone. 
Oncet  in  a  while  a  feller  likes  to  take  a  little  flyer 
in  the  market  and  try  and  make  a  few  dollars. 
Ain't  it?" 

"What!"  Aaron  exclaimed.  This  was  a  phase 
of  his  uncle's  character  that  had  never  been  exposed 
before. 

"Yes,  Aaron,"  Uncle  Mosha  continued;  "living 
ain't  only  having  a  room  to  sleep  in  and  food  to  eat, 
Aaron.  Other  things  is  living,  Aaron.  Stocks  is 
living  and  auction  pinocle  is  also  living,  and  going 
oncet  in  a  while  on  theayter  is  living  too,  Aaron. 
I  may  be  an  old  man.  Aaron,  but  I  ain't  dead 
yet." 

Aaron's  pale  face  grew  almost  ghastly  at  these 
shocking  disclosures,  and  when  Uncle  Mosha 


86  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

concluded  his  audacious  creed  with  a  furtive  wink 
his  nephew  visibly  started. 

"But  you  got  plenty  other  money  to  invest  in 
the  stock  market  without  you  would  sell  the  house, 
Uncle  Mosha,"  he  said. 

"  Have  I  ? "  Uncle  Mosha  rejoined.  "That's  news  to 
me,  Aaron.  You  see  in  nineteen-seven  was  a  big  panic 
and  some  stocks  is  better  as  others.  Them  which 
ain't,  Aaron,  they  went  and  gone  so  low,  Aaron, 
they  ain't  never  come  back  again  and  perhaps  never 
will.  Might  you  heard  something  about  it  in  Port 
Sullivan  maybe?  Ten  thousand  dollars  I  dropped 
on  them  suckers  down  in  Wall  Street,  Aaron." 

Uncle  Mosha  smiled  blandly  at  his  nephew,  who 
grasped  the  edge  of  the  table  to  steady  his  whirling 
senses. 

"But  what's  the  use  talking,"  Uncle  Mosha  con 
tinued.  "What  is  vorbei  is  vorbei;  and  I  guess  I 
would  have  another  cup  of  coffee." 

"You  had  enough  coffee,"  Aaron  cried  sternly. 
"So  you  gone  and  dropped  your  money  on  stocks, 
hey?" 

Uncle  Mosha  shrugged  and  extended  one  palm 
in  philosophic  resignation. 

"It  was  my  own  money,  Aaron,"  he  said.  "I 
didn't  stole  it." 

"This  ain't  no  time  for  making  jokes,  Uncle 
Mosha,"  Aaron  retorted.  "Who  was  it  you  was 
going  to  sell  the  house  to?" 


DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES  87 

"Maybe  you  know  him,"  Uncle  Mosha  said. 
"It's  a  feller  by  the  name  Mawruss  Perlmutter." 

Aaron  Kronberg's  pallor  gave  way  to  a  flood  of 
crimson,  and  for  a  moment  he  choked  incoherently 
as  he  gazed  at  Uncle  Mosha  in  amazement. 

"Why,  that  feller  Perlmutter  is  a  friend  of  Alex," 
he  gasped  at  length. 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Uncle  Mosha  replied;  "but 
even  if  he  is  a  friend  of  Alex  his  money  ain't 
counterfeit." 

"But  he'd  rob  you  of  your  shirt,  Uncle  Mosha," 
Aaron  exclaimed.  "He's  a  dangerous  feller." 

"I'm  used  to  dangerous  fellers,  Aaron,"  Uncle 
Mosha  answered  calmly.  "I  told  you  before,  I 
dropped  ten  thousand  in  Wall  Street." 

"Yes;  and  if  you  would  sold  this  here  house, 
Uncle  Mosha,  you  would  drop  ten  thousand  more." 

"Not  ten  thousand,  Aaron.  I  only  got  eight 
thousand  equity  in  the  house." 

Again  Aaron  stared  at  his  uncle. 

"Do  you  mean  to  told  me  you  only  got  eight 
thousand  dollars  in  the  world?"  he  groaned. 

"The  world  is  a  pretty  big  place,  Aaron,"  Uncle 
Mosha  said;  "but  I  wouldn't  lie  to  you  anyhow. 
Eight  thousand  is  the  figure." 

"Then  all  I  could  say  is,  Uncle  Mosha,  before 
you  would  got  to  go  begging  on  the  streets  yet,  you 
would  better  sell  that  house  and  come  to  live  with 
me  up  in  Port  Sullivan." 


88  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Uncle  Mosha  shrugged  once  more. 

"I'll  tell  you  the  truth,  Aaron,"  he  said;  "I  was 
going  to  suggest  that  to  you  myself  yet.  So  let's 
go  right  off  and  see  this  here  Perlmutter  and  we'll 
talk  about  Port  Sullivan  later." 

"Not  by  a  damsite,"  Aaron  declared,  as  he  rose 
from  his  chair  and  grasped  his  uncle  firmly  by  the 
arm.  "You  come  with  me  and  we'll  sell  this  house 
to  a  feller  I  know." 

When  Max  Gershon  entered  the  salesroom  of 
Potash  &  Perlmutter  that  afternoon,  Abe  treated 
the  incident  as  though  it  were  the  arrival  of  an 
intimate  friend  after  an  absence  of  many  years' 
duration. 

"How  are  you  feeling  now,  Max?"  he  said,  and 
then  he  introduced  his  partner.  "Mawruss,"  he 
called,  "this  is  my  friend,  Mr.  Max  Gershon. 
Get  the  cigars  from  the  safe,  Mawruss." 

After  he  had  relieved  his  visitor  of  his  hat  and  coat 
he  drew  forward  a  comfortable  chair  and  literally 
thrust  Max  into  it. 

"Well,  Max,"  Abe  said,  after  the  cigars  had  gone 
around,  "I  sure  am  glad  to  see  you.  Mawruss, 
don't  he  look  like  his  uncle,  old  man  Baum?" 

Morris  regarded  Max  critically  for  a  moment. 

"Old  man  Baum  was  a  pretty  good-looking  feller, 
Abe,"  he  said,  "but  he  wasn't  so  tall  as  Mr.  Gershon; 
otherwise  they  are  the  same  identical  people." 


DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES  89 

"Never  mind  his  looks,"  Max  said,  beaming. 
"If  I  should  have  only  his  business  ability  I  would 
be  satisfied." 

"He  made  plenty  money  in  his  time,"  Morris 
commented. 

"Yes,  and  lost  it  again  too,"  Max  added;  "but 
what's  the  use  talking?  Money  I  ain't  in  need  of 
exactly,  y'understand." 

"You  need  goods,  Max,"  Abe  said.     "Is  that  it?" 

"Well,  I  do  and  I  don't,  Abe,"  Max  replied. 
"The  fact  is,  Abe,  I  got  a  good  business  down  in 
Johnsville,  but  I  couldn't  extend  it  none  on  account 
the  place  ain't  big  enough.  Former  times  that  was 
all  cattle  country  around  there,  and  now  it's  all 
truck  farms  and  cotton,  and  what  sort  of  business 
could  a  drygoods  merchant  do  with  cotton  hands? 
Ain't  I  right?" 

Abe   nodded. 

"  I  tell  you  the  honest  truth,  Abe,"  Max  continued. 
"I  would  like  to  sell  out  and  come  North.  I  got 
an  idee  if  I  would  find  some  hustling  young  feller 
up  here  which  he  got  a  good  department  store  — • 
good  but  small,  y'understand — in  a  live  town,  Abe,  I 
would  go  with  him  as  partners  together,  and  we  could 
extend  the  business  and  make  a  good  thing  of  it." 

Abe  looked  at  Morris  and  then  he  slapped  his 
thigh  with  his  open  hand. 

"By  jimminy,"  he  cried,  "I  got  the  very  thing 
for  you,  Max." 


90  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Morris  gazed  at  his  partner  with  raised  eyebrows 
and  then  he  too  slapped  his  thigh. 

"Alex  Kronberg!"  he  exclaimed. 

"That's  the  feller,"  Abe  said.  "There's  a  man, 
Max,  which  he  is  honest  like  the  day  and  smart  as 
a  cutting  machine.  I  know  him  since  he  was  a 
baby,  y'understand,  and  he's  worked  his  way  up 
till  now  he's  got  a  fine  business  in  Bridgetown. 
Only  yesterday  he  says  to  me  if  he  could  get  a 
live  partner  with  a  little  capital,  y'understand,  he 
would  soon  got  the  biggest  store  in  Bridgetown." 

"What  for  a  town  is  Bridgetown?"  Max  asked. 

"Bridgetown  is  all  right,  Max,"  Abe  said.  "I 
give  you  my  word,  Max,  they  got  so  many  factories 
there  which  they  burn  soft  coal,  on  the  brightest 
days  you  couldn't  see  the  sun  at  all.  It  is  an  ele 
gant  place,  Max." 

"And  what  is  more,  Max,"  Morris  added,  "only 
last  Saturday  night,  Alex  tells  me,  the  store  was  so 
crowded  two  saleswomen  fainted." 

"It  sounds  good,"  Max  admitted.  "Who  did 
you  say  owns  the  store?" 

"Alex  Kronberg,"  Morris  replied. 

"Kronberg  — Kronberg,"  Max  repeated.  "The 
name  sounds  familiar.  When  did  you  say  he  would 
be  here?" 

"He  ought  to  be  in  here  every  minute,"  Abe 
said.  Hardly  had  he  spoken  when  the  elevator  door 
clanged  and  Alex 'himself  entered. 


DEAD   MEN'S  SHOES  91 

He  glistened  with  perspiration,  and  his  round, 
good-humoured  face  bore  a  broad  grin. 

"Phoo-ee!"  he  cried.     "I'm  all  heated  up." 

"What's  the  trouble,  Alex?"  Morris  asked. 

"I  just  run  into  Aaron  and  Uncle  Mosha  coming 
out  of  a  coffee  house,  and  the  way  them  two  suckers 
cussed  me  out,  Mawruss!  —  you  wouldn't  believe 
it  at  all.  I  couldn't  understand  what  they  was 
talking  about,  Mawruss,  but  they  mentioned  your 
name  and  something  about  Mosha's  house  on 
Madison  Street." 

Abe  glared  at  Morris  and  then  turned  to  Alex 
with  a  forced  smile. 

"Don't  you  bother  yourself  about  them  fellers, 
Alex,"  he  said. 

"What  do  I  care  for  'em,  Abe?"  Alex  replied. 
"I  got  my  own  troubles." 

"Sure,"  Morris  broke  in;  "but  what  did  they 
say  about  the  house,  Alex?" 

"  So  far  what  I  could  hear,  Mawruss,  Aaron  says 
you  are  trying  to  buy  from  Mosha  the  house." 

"No  such  thing,  Alex,  believe  me,"  Abe  inter 
rupted. 

"But  Aaron  says  he's  already  got  a  customer  for 
the  house,"  Alex  went  on;  "and  who  d'ye  think 
it  is?" 

Abe  wiped  his  forehead  with  his  handkerchief 
and  continued  to  glare  at  Morris. 

"I  don't  know  who  it  is,"  Abe  said,  "and,  what's 


92  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

more,  I  don't  care.  I  want  to  introduce  you  to  a 
friend  of  mine,  Alex.  This  is  Mr.  Max  Gershon, 
from  Johnsville,  Texas." 

"I'm  pleased  to  meetcher,  Mr.  Gershon,"  Alex 
replied.  "Yes,  Mawruss,  Aaron  says  he  sold  the 
house  already,  and  who  d'ye  think  he  sold  it  to?" 

Morris  made  an  inarticulate  noise  which  he  in 
tended  as  an  expression  of  curiosity. 

"A  friend  of  yours  by  the  name  Leon  Sammet," 
Alex  Kronberg  said. 

"You  see  how  it  is?"  Aaron  Kronberg  said  to  his 
Uncle  Mosha  as  they  passed  down  Fifth  Avenue 
after  their  encounter  with  Alex.  "You  see  how  it 
is  ?  The  feller  is  a  desperate  character,  Uncle  Mosha. 
You  couldn't  make  him  mad  even." 

"A  lowlife!"  Uncle  Mosha  cried,  shaking  his  head 
from  side  to  side.  "His  mother  before  him  was  just 
such  another  like  him.  I  could  spit  blood  hollering 
at  that  woman  and  she  wouldn't  answer  me  back 
at  all." 

"Well,  now  you  got  it,"  Aaron  retorted  trium 
phantly;  "and  so,  if  you  would  start  to  sell  your 
house  to  his  friend  Perlmutter,  the  least  that 
happens  to  you  is  they  would  do  you  for  the  whole 
thing." 

"Maybe  you're  right,"  Uncle  Mosha  admitted. 

"And  so  I  am  going  to  take  you  over  to  see  a 
friend  of  mine  by  the  name  Leon  Sammet,"  Aaron 


DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES  93 

continued,  "and  if  you  want  to  leave  the  thing  to 
me,  Uncle  Mosha,  I  am  certain  sure  I  could  get  you 
a  good  price  for  the  house." 

"Certain  sure  nobody  could  be  of  getting  a  good 
price  for  a  house  in  these  times,  Aaron,"  Uncle 
Mosha  said.  "Real  estate  on  the  East  Side  is 
'way  down,  Aaron.  The  subway  ruins  everything." 

"I  don't  care  about  subways  nor  nothing," 
Aaron  cried.  "I  would  get  you  what  you  want 
for  that  house.  What  would  you  consider  a  good 
price  for  the  house,  uncle?" 

"A  very  good  price  would  be  forty-two  two-fifty," 
Uncle  Mosha  replied;  "but  me  I  would  be  willing 
to  accept  forty  thousand." 

"Well,  lookyhere,"  Aaron  commenced;  "I'm 
going  to  do  this  for  you,  Uncle  Mosha.  I'm  going 
to  get  Leon  Sammet  to  give  you  not  forty  thousand 
or  forty-two  two-fifty  neither.  I'm  going  to  get 
Leon  Sammet  to  give  you  forty-three  thousand  for 
the  house,  uncle,  but  I  only  do  it  on  one  condition, 
uncle." 

"And  what  is  that?"  Uncle  Mosha  asked. 

"I  would  do  it  for  you  only  on  condition  you 
come  to  live  with  me  at  Port  Sullivan,"  Aaron 
concluded;  "and  also  you  must  give  me,  to  take 
care  of  it  for  you,  all  the  cash  money  you  get  for 
the  house." 

Uncle  Mosha  frowned  as  he  drew  from  his  pocket 
a  small  packet  wrapped  in  newspaper.  This  he 


94  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

proceeded  to  unwrap  until  there  was  exposed  the 
unburnt  half  of  a  large  black  cigar.  It  was  all  that 
remained  of  Morris  Perlmutter's  gift  and  Uncle 
Mosha  carefully  knocked  the  ash  off  before  he  put 
it  in  his  mouth. 

"Why  don't  you  answer  me?"  Aaron  asked. 

"I  got  to  think,  ain't  I?"  Uncle  Mosha  mumbled 
as  he  paused  to  light  up.  He  puffed  away  in  silence 
until  they  had  nearly  reached  the  entrance  to  Sam- 
met  Brothers'  place  of  business 

"Schon  gut,  Aaron,"  Uncle  Mosha  said  at  length. 
"I  will  do  it  with  this  here  exception:  I  would  sell 
the  house  for  forty-three  thousand  dollars,  subject 
to  a  first  mortgage  of  twenty-five  thousand  dollars, 
and  a  second  mortgage  of  ninety-two  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars.  That  leaves  eighty-seven  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars  balance,  ain't  it?" 

Aaron  nodded. 

"  Then  this  here  Sammet  is  to  pay  seven  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars  cash  on  signing  the  contract  and 
eight  thousand  dollars  on  closing  the  title,"  Uncle 
Mosha  declared;  "and  the  exception  is  that  you 
should  take  care  of  the  eight  thousand  dollars,  but 
the  seven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  belongs  to  me 
and  I  could  do  what  I  like  with  it." 

For  ten  minutes  Aaron  argued  with  his  uncle  in 
front  of  Sammet  Brothers'  building,  but  all  to  no 
purpose,  for  Uncle  Mosha  remained  unmoved. 
Either  he  was  to  receive  the  seven  hundred  and 


DEAD   MEN'S  SHOES  95 

fifty  dollars  on  the  signing  of  the  contract  or  the 
entire  deal  was  off;  and  at  length  he  prevailed. 

"All  right,"  Aaron  said,  "you  shall  have  the 
seven  hundred  and  fifty,  but  one  thing  you  must  got 
to  do.  When  we  go  into  Leon  Sammet's  loft  I 
want  you  to  let  me  and  Leon  speak  a  few  words, 
something  alone  together.  Are  you  agreeable?" 

"Sure,  why  not?"  Uncle  Mosha  agreed.  "You 
got  to  work  the  feller  up  to  buying  the  house, 
ain't  yer?" 

Aaron  nodded  gloomily  as  they  entered  the  ele 
vator,  and  when  it  stopped  at  Sammet  Brothers' 
floor  he  strode  out  so  rapidly  that  Uncle  Mosha,  who 
had  never  before  visited  Sammet  Brothers',  hardly 
noticed  his  nephew's  exit.  Before  he  could  follow 
Aaron  the  elevator  attendant  slammed  the  door, 
and  it  was  not  reopened  until  Uncle  Mosha 
had  expressed  his  agitation  in  a  burst  of  spirited 
profanity. 

"Did  you  see  that,  Aaron?"  he  exclaimed  after 
he  had  caught  up  to  his  nephew.  "I  come  pretty 
close  to  getting  killed  just  now  in  that  there 
elevator." 

"Why  don't  you  keep  your  eyes  open?"  Aaron 
asked  callously.  "Now  you  sit  down  here  and  wait 
until  I  am  coming  out." 

He  entered  Leon  Sammet's  private  office,  and  as 
soon  as  Uncle  Mosha  found  himself  alone  in  the 
showroom  he  clenched  the  butt  of  his  cigar  between 


96  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

his  yellow  teeth  and  explored  his  pockets  for  pencil 
and  paper.  Having  found  them,  he  was  soon 
plunged  in  a  maze  of  figures  representing  the  profit 
in  going  short  of  seven  hundred  shares  on  a  one- 
point  margin,  assuming  that  the  market  dropped 
eight  points  in  ten  days. 

"Hallo,  Aaron,"  Leon  Sammet  cried  when  he 
caught  sight  of  the  younger  Kronberg. 

Aaron  nodded,  with  half-closed  eyes. 

"Sit  down,  Aaron,"  Leon  continued;  "you  look 
worried." 

"I  bet  yer,"  Aaron  replied.  "What  d'ye  think 
of  that  sucker?" 

"What  's  Alex  been  doing  now?"  Leon  asked. 

"Alex!  What  d'ye  mean,  Alex?"  Aaron  said. 
"Alex  I  ain't  worrying  about  at  all.  I  mean  Uncle 
Mosha  Kronberg." 

Forthwith  he  unfolded  to  Leon  the  sum  of  his 
uncle's  iniquities,  sparing  no  detail  of  his  own  well- 
nigh  ruined  prospects  and  ending  with  an  account 
of  Uncle  Mosha's  interrupted  deal  with  Morris 
Perlmutter. 

Leon  slammed  the  top  of  his  desk  with  his  open 
hand. 

"Before  I  would  let  that  shark,  Perlmutter,  get 
the  house  I  would  buy  it  myself." 

"Sure,  I  know!"  Aaron  replied.  "I  thought 
you  would,  Leon;  but  that  ain't  necessary.  All 
I  want  you  to  do  is  this,  Leon.  I  told  the  old  man 


DEAD   MEN'S   SHOES  97 

I  could  get  you  to  buy  the  house  for  forty-three 
thousand  dollars." 

"Forty-three  thousand?"  Leon  exclaimed.  "Why 
that  house  ain't  worth  forty-three  thousand!" 

"What  do  I  care  what  it's  worth?"  Aaron  replied. 
"The  game  is  this,  Leon.  You  will  buy  the  house 
for  me  —  Aaron  —  with  my  money.  You  got  to 
pay  seven  hundred  and  fifty  cash  on  signing  the 
contract,  and  the  balance  of  eight  thousand  dollars 
above  the  mortgages  you  got  to  pay  when  the  title 
is  closed.  I  fixed  it  with  the  old  man  that  he  is  to 
give  me  the  eight  thousand  dollars  to  take  care  of 
for  him  —  see  ?  So,  when  the  title  is  closed  I  will 
give  you  eight  thousand  dollars  to  give  Mosha,  and 
Mosha  will  turn  it  back  to  me;  and,  Leon,  if  he 
ever  sees  that  eight  thousand  dollars  again  it  won't 
be  this  side  of  the  grave." 

Leon  nodded. 

"Meantime  you've  got  the  house,"  he  said. 

"Exactly,"  Aaron  replied.  "I  get  the  house. 
All  it  cost  me  is  seven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars 
cash,  and  I  also  get  unloaded  on  me  for  the  rest  of 
his  life  the  old  man.  And  while  I  don't  wish  him 
any  harm,  y'understand,  Gott  soil  huten  anything 
should  happen  to  him  Leon,  it  couldn't  come  too 
soon  for  me." 

"I  bet  yer,"  Leon  said  fervently.  "And  now 
let's  get  him  in  here  and  we'll  all  go  down  to  Henry 
D,  Feldman's  office  and  fix  the  matter  up." 


98  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Two  hours  later  Leon  and  Uncle  Mosha  had 
signed  a  contract  for  the  sale  of  the  Madison  Street 
house,  title  to  be  closed  and  deed  to  be  delivered 
within  thirty  days.  The  purchase  price  was  stated 
to  be  forty-three  thousand  dollars,  payable  as  fol 
lows:  thirty-four  thousand  two  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars  by  the  vendee  taking  the  house  subject  to 
mortgages  aggregating  that  amount,  seven  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars  cash  on  signing  the  contract,  and 
the  balance  of  eight  thousand  dollars  in  cash  or 
certified  check  at  the  closing  of  the  title. 

Prior  to  leaving  his  office  Leon  had  cashed  Aaron 
Kronberg's  check  for  seven  hundred  and  fifty  dol 
lars,  and  the  money,  in  bills  of  large  denomination, 
was  turned  over  to  Mosha  Kronberg,  who  tucked 
them  carefully  away  in  his  breast  pocket. 

"Well,  Aaron,"  he  said  after  the  operation  was  com 
pleted,  "  I  guess  I'll  be  going  back  to  Madison  Street." 

"Wait;  I'll  go  along  with  you,"  Aaron  cried. 

"Don't  you  trouble  yourself,"  Uncle  Mosha 
declared  with  a  confidential  wink  at  Leon  Sammet 
and  Henry  D.  Feldman;  "I  could  take  care  of  myself 
all  right." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  all  that  money, 
Mr.  Kronberg?"  Leon  asked  as  Uncle  Mosha 
turned  to  leave.  The  old  man  paused  with  his 
hand  on  the  door,  and  once  more  he  favoured  his 
questioner  with  a  significant  wink. 

"Leave  that  to  me,"  he  said. 


DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES  9$ 

The  thirty  days  succeeding  Morris  Perlmutter's 
visit  to  Madison  Street  were  busy  ones  for  all  the 
Kronbergs.  Alex  had  accompanied  Max  Gershon 
:to  Bridgetown,  where  conditions  more  than  fulfilled 
Abe's  glowing  account,  and  the  formation  of  the 
Kronberg-Gershon  Drygoods  Company  proceeded 
without  delay.  As  for  Aaron  Kronberg,  he  found 
that  the  borrowing  of  eight  thousand  dollars,  even 
for  so  short  a  period  as  would  be  necessary  to  con 
summate  the  Madison  Street  deal,  was  no  easy 
task.  At  length  he  raised  the  sum  by  paying  a 
large  bonus  to  his  bankers  in  Port  Sullivan,  and  it 
was  deposited  to  the  credit  of  Sammet  Brothers 
four  days  before  the  closing  of  title. 

Meantime  Uncle  Mosha  had  not  neglected  the 
opportunity  afforded  him  during  his  last  few  days 
of  liberty.  With  his  seven  hundred  and  fifty  dol 
lars  he  had  sought  the  brokerage  offices  of  Klinkberg 
&  Company  the  morning  after  signing  his  contract 
with  Leon  Sammet.  There  he  selected  American 
Chocolate  and  Cocoa  as  the  medium  of  his  specula 
tion  and  promptly  went  short  of  seven  hundred 
on  a  one-point  margin.  The  same  afternoon  he 
was  within  a  sixteenth  of  being  wiped  out  when  the 
market  turned,  and  nearly  one  month  later  he  took 
his  profit  of  twenty-one  hundred  dollars,  which 
with  the  original  investment,  minus  the  brokerage 
amounted  to  twenty-eight  hundred  dollars. 

"Never  no  more,"  he  said  to  the  brokerage  firm's 


ioo  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

cashier  as  he  drew  his  profit.  "  I  am  through  oncet 
and  for  all.  No  one  could  get  me  to  touch  another 
share  of  stock  so  long  as  I  live." 

With  this  solemn  declaration  he  passed  out  of 
Klinkberg  &  Company's  office  just  as  a  short  stout 
man  burst  into  the  hall  from  a  door  marked  "Cus 
tomers." 

"Wow!"  the  short  stout  man  exclaimed. 

"  Warum  wow?"  Uncle  Mosha  asked. 

"Amalgamated  Refineries  goes  up  four  points 
on  six  sales  in  half  an  hour,"  the  short  stout  man 
replied,  "and  I  win  two  thousand." 

The  short  stout  man  started  down  the  hall  and 
executed  a  fantastic  dancing  step  in  front  of  the 
elevators,  while  Uncle  Mosha  entered  the  door 
marked  "Customers." 

"Mr.  Klinkberg,"  he  said,  handing  Klinkberg  & 
Company's  two  thousand  eight  hundred  dollar 
check  to  that  firm's  senior  partner,  "buy  me  one 
thousand  shares  Amalgamated  Refineries  at  the 
market." 

An  hour  later  he  walked  leisurely  along  Madison 
Street,  and  as  he  approached  his  own  doorway 
Aaron  Kronberg  swooped  down  upon  him. 

"Uncle  Mosha,"  he  almost  screamed,  "where 
was  you?" 

"Where  was  I?"  Uncle  Mosha  replied.  "Why, 
I  was  where  I  was.  That's  where  I  was.  What 
difference  does  it  make  to  you  where  I  was?" 


DEAD'  MEN'S  :  : 


;;,       101 

"What  difference  does  it  make  to  me?"  Aaron 
cried.  "Ain't  I  putting  up  the  —  er  —  don't  you 
know  you  was  due  at  Henry  D.  Feldman's  office 
to  close  your  title  at  one  o'clock?  —  and  here  it  is 
half-past  one  already!" 

For  a  minute  Uncle  Mosha's  face  fell.  In  the 
excitement  of  following  the  profitable  course  of  his 
speculation  he  had  completely  forgotten  his  real- 
estate  transaction,  but  he  quickly  recovered  his 
composure. 

"Oh,  well,"  he  said,  "let  'em  wait!  The  house 
won't  run  away,  Aaron.  Let's  go  and  get  a  cup 
coffee  somewheres." 

"Coffee,  nothing!"  Aaron  growled;  "you're 
coming  right  along  with  me.  I  got  a  carriage  wait 
ing  for  you." 

He  hustled  the  old  man  into  a  decrepit  conveyance 
that  was  drawn  up  to  the  curb  and  they  started 
immediately  for  Henry  D.  Feldman's  office. 

"Honest,  Aaron,"  Uncle  Mosha  sighed,  "I  feel 
like  I  was  riding  to  my  own  funeral." 

"Don't  worry,  Uncle  Mosha,"  Aaron  said;  "with 
the  tzuris  which  I  got  it  lately  you  would  quicker 
ride  to  mine." 

"Well,  Aaron,"  Uncle  Mosha  rejoined,  "as  old 
man  Baum  used  to  say,  we  all  got  to  die  sooner  or 
later,  Aaron;  and  all  we  could  take  with  us  is  our 
good  name." 

"You   wouldn't  got  to  pay  no   excess   baggage 


102  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

rates  on  that,"  Aaron  said  as  the  carriage  came  to 
a  stop  in  front  of  Feldman's  office  building. 

Two  minutes  later  they  entered  the  offices  of 
Henry  D.  Feldman  and  were  ushered  immediately 
into  the  presence  of  that  distinguished  advocate 
himself.  As  they  passed  through  the  doorway 
Feldman  rose  from  his  seat.  He  was  not  alone, 
for  at  one  side  of  a  long  library  table  sat  Leon 
Sammet,  while  opposite  to  him  a  tall,  sandy-haired 
person  methodically  arranged  various  bundles  of 
papers  which  he  drew  out  of  capacious  pasteboard 
envelopes. 

"Ah,  gentlemen,  you're  here  at  last,"  Feldman 
cried.  "Mr.  Jones,  this  is  Mr.  Kronberg  and  his 
nephew,  Mr.  Aaron  Kronberg.  Mr.  Jones  is  a 
representative  of  the  Land  Insurance  &  Title 
Guarantee  Company,  who  at  my  request  has  ex 
amined  the  title  to  your  house,  Mr.  Kronberg." 

"All  right,"  Uncle  Mosha  said;  "I  ain't  scared 
of  'em.  I  owned  the  house  since  1890  already  — 
that's  pretty  near  twenty  years,  and  I  ain't  paid 
no  Confederate  money  for  it  neither." 

Mr.  Jones  cleared  his  throat  noisily,  and  as  he 
did  so  a  round  white  object  leaped  from  beneath 
his  collar  and  bumped  against  his  chin.  It  was  his 
Adam's  apple. 

"Did  you  say  you  owned  the  house  twenty 
years?"  he  inquired  in  tones  of  such  profundity 
that  Feldman  was  obliged  to  ask  him  to  repeat  his 


DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES  103 

question.  At  the  second  repetition  Uncle  Mosha 
said  that  it  might  be  a  month  less  than  twenty 
years. 

"The  record  shows  that  you  bought  the  house  a 
little  more  than  nineteen  years  ago,"  Mr.  Jones 
continued  —  his  manner  suggested  a  hanging  judge 
in  the  act  of  assuming  the  black  cap  —  "and  there 
fore  you  could  claim  no  adverse  possession,  even 
assuming  there  were  no  disabilities." 

"What  d'ye  mean,  claim?"  Uncle  Mosha  asked 
with  asperity.  "I  don't  claim  nothing.  I  already 
got  seven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  and  there  is 
coming  to  me  eight  thousand  dollars  more." 

"I  think,  Mr.  Jones,"  Feldman  interrupted,  "I 
ought  to  explain  to  Mr.  Kronberg  the  locus  in  quo." 

Aaron  Kronberg  turned  pale  and  wiped  a  few 
drops  of  perspiration  from  his  forehead. 

"What  is  there  to  explain,  Mr.  Feldman?"  he 
broke  in.  "Go  ahead  and  close  the  title  to  the 
property.  I  couldn't  sit  here  all  day." 

"There's  a  great  deal  to  be  explained,"  Feldman 
continued.  "He  is  unable  to  convey  good  title 
to  the  property  non  constat  he  received  a  deed  of  it 
in  1890." 

"I  never  heard  tell  of  the  feller  at  all,"  Uncle 
Mosha  exclaimed.  "I  am  the  only  one  which 
received  a  deed  of  the  property." 

Feldman  gazed  at  Uncle  Mosha  for  one  dazed 
moment  and  then  proceeded. 


104  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"The  last  owner  in  Mr.  Kronberg's  claim  of 
title  —  I  mean  his  immediate  vendor  —  was  the 
only  surviving  collateral  of  an  intestate,"  he  said. 

"That's  where  you  make  a  big  mistake,"  Uncle 
Mosha  interrupted.  "The  feller  which  I  bought 
the  house  from  was  a  salesman  for  a  shirt  concern." 

Feldman  glared  at  Uncle  Mosha  and  was  about  to 
crush  him  with  a  flood  of  law  Latin  when  the  door 
opened. 

"You  got  to  excuse  me  for  butting  in,  Mr.  Feld 
man,"  said  a  harsh  voice  which  presently  was  seen 
to  issue  from  the  person  of  Morris  Perlmutter,  "but 
me  and  my  partner  is  got  to  get  back  to  the  store 
and  Max  and  his  partner  is  also  busy  to-day." 

"I'll  be  with  you  in  just  one  moment,  Mr.  Perl- 
mutter,"  Feldman  replied. 

"You  says  that  an  hour  ago,"  Morris  grumbled 
as  he  closed  the  door  behind  him. 

"Now,  Mr.  Kronberg,"  Feldman  continued,  "I'd 
like  to  elucidate  this  situation  for  you  as  succinctly 
as  possible." 

"Do  that  afterward,  if  you  got  to  do  it,"  Uncle 
Mosha  broke  in;  "but  just  now  tell  me  what  the 
trouble  is." 

"What's  the  use  talking  to  a  mutt  that  don't 
understand  the  English  language  at  all?"  Feldman 
cried.  "  Listen  here  to  me.  You  bought  your  house 
from  a  fellow  called  Nathan  Baum." 

"Sure,  I  did?"  Uncle  Mosha  said.  "You  remember 


DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES  105 

him,  Sammet?  He  went  to  work  and  got  killed 
in  a  railroad  accident  ten  years  ago  already." 

"Don't  interrupt,"  Feldman  cried.  "Nathan 
Baum  was  the  brother  of  Max  Baum,  a  former 
owner  of  the  house.  Max  Baum  died  while  he 
owned  the  house  and  he  left  no  will,  and  Nathan 
Baum  claimed  the  house  as  the  only  heir  of  Max 
Baum." 

"That's  right,"  Mosha  agreed.  "Nathan  Baum 
was  the  only  relative  in  the  world  which  Max 
Baum  got  it.  He  had  a  sister,  but  she  died  before 
Max." 

"Was  Max  Baum's  sister  ever  married?"  Mr. 
Jones  asked  in  funereal  accents. 

"Sure  she  was  married,"  Mosha  answered. 
"She  was  married  to  Sam  Gershon.  He  works  for 
years  by  Richter  as  a  cutter.  Sam  is  dead  too." 

"Did  they  ever  have  any  children?"  Mr.  Jones 
inquired. 

"One  boy  they  had,"  Uncle  Mosha  said.  "Shall 
I  ever  forget  it?  What  a  beautiful  boy  that  was, 
Mr.  Feldman  —  a  regular  picture!  Mrs.  Gershon 
thinks  a  whole  lot  of  that  boy,  too,  I  bet  yer." 

"Never  mind  the  trimmings,  Kronberg,"  Feld 
man  broke  in.  "Is  the  boy  alive?" 

"That's  what  we're  anxious  to  know,"  Mr. 
Jones  interrupted.  "My  company  had  ascer 
tained  that  there  was  one  son,  but  we  couldn't 
find  out  if  he  were  dead  or  alive." 


106  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

"If  the  boy  was  alive  Mrs.  Gershon  would  be 
alive  too,"  Mosha  said.  "Mrs.  Gershon  died  on 
account  of  that  boy.  What  a  lovely  boy  that  was! 
I  can  see  him  now  —  the  way  he  looked.  He  had 
eyes  black  like  coal,  and  a " 

Here  Uncle  Mosha  stopped  short.  His  jaw 
dropped  and  his  fishy  gray  eyes  seemed  to  start 
from  his  head  as  he  gazed  at  the  door.  It  stood 
ajar  some  six  inches  and  exposed  the  features  of  a 
person  impatient  to  the  point  of  frenzy. 

"Ex-cuse  me,  Mr.  Feldman!"  said  the  intruder; 
"I  may  be  a  Rube  from  Texas,  y'understand,  but 
I  got  my  feelings  too,  and  unless  you  come  in  here 
right  away  and  close  the  matter  up  me  and  my 
partner  would  go  and  get  our  agreement  fixed  up 
somewhere  else  again." 

"I'll  be  with  you  in  just  one  moment,  Mr.  Ger 
shon,"  Feldman  replied. 

"Gershon?"  Uncle  Mosha  muttered.     "Gershon!" 

He  rose  to  his  feet  and  tottered  across  the  room 
toward  the  doorway,  but  at  the  threshold  his 
strength  failed  him  and  he  fell  headlong  to  the 
floor. 

In  the  scene  of  confusion  that  followed  only 
Henry  D.  Feldman  remained  calm.  He  touched 
the  electric  button  on  his  desk. 

"Go  down  to  the  Algonquin  Building  and  fetch 
a  doctor,"  he  said  to  the  office-boy  who  responded, 
"and  on  your  way  out  see  if  we  have  any  blank 


DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES  107 

petitions  for  administration  in  the  Surrogate's 
Court.  If  we  haven't,  buy  a  couple  on  your  way 
back.  The  old  man  may  not  pull  through." 

When  Uncle  Mosha's  eyes  opened  in  conscious 
ness  of  his  surroundings  they  rested  on  Max  Ger 
shon,  who  bent  over  the  old  man  as  anxiously  as  did 
either  of  his  nephews. 

"Max  Gershon,  ain't  it?"  Uncle  Mosha  asked 
feebly. 

Gershon  nodded. 

"You  shouldn't  try  to  talk,"  he  said. 

"I'm  all  right,"  Uncle  Mosha  replied.  "I  need 
only  a  cup  coffee.  If  Aaron  would  let  me  got  it 
before  I  come  here  this  wouldn't  never  of  happened." 

Aaron  recognized  the  justice  of  his  uncle's  criti 
cism  by  personally  seeking  a  nearby  restaurant, 
and  after  an  interval  of  ten  minutes,  during  which 
Abe  and  Morris  took  turns  with  Max  and  Alex  in 
fanning  the  patient,  he  returned  with  a  pot  of 
steaming  coffee.  Uncle  Mosha  drank  three  cups 
in  rapid  succession  and  heaved  a  great  sigh. 

"You  ain't  got  maybe  a  cigar  about  you,  Max?" 
he  said. 

"Smoke  this,  Uncle  Mosha,"  Alex  Kronberg 
cried,  pulling  a  large  satiny  invincible  from  his  waist 
coat  pocket  and  thrusting  it  at  his  uncle.  For  one 
hesitating  minute  the  old  man  looked  from  Alex 
to  the  cigar,  but  at  last  its  glossy  perfection  over 
came  his  scruples. 


io8  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Much  obliged,  Alex,"  he  said. 

"That's  all  right,"  Alex  mumbled  as  he  struck 
a  match.  "How  do  you  feel  now,  uncle?" 

"First  rate,"  Uncle  Mosha  replied  as  he  blew 
out  great  clouds  of  smoke;  "although  I  ought  to 
feel  a  whole  lot  worse,  Alex,  when  I  see  Maxie 
Gershon  here.  Twenty-five  years  ago  I  seen  him 
last  and  he  looks  the  same  fat-faced  feller  with  the 
black  eyes.  Only  to  think  he  now  comes  back  and 
takes  away  half  my  house  from  me." 

"I  ain't  come  back  to  do  no  such  thing!"  Max 
cried.  "  I  could  assure  you,  Mr.  Kronberg,  although 
me  and  Alex  Kronberg  is  going  as  partners  together, 
I  never  knew  until  I  seen  you  here  that  you  was  any 
relation  of  his.  As  for  your  house,  Mr.  Kronberg, 
I  don't  know  nothing  about  it  at  all." 

"Don't  you?"  Uncle  Mosha  exclaimed.  "Well, 
I'll  tell  you.  It's  like  this." 

"Stigun!"  Aaron  hissed.  "Don't  open  your 
mouth,  Uncle  Mosha." 

"What  d'ye  mean,  don't  open  my  mouth?"  Uncle 
Mosha  retorted.  "D'ye  think  I'm  a  crook?  If  I 
got  a  house  which  it  don't  belong  to  me  at  all,  then 
I  don't  want  it." 

He  turned  his  back  on  Aaron  and  straightway  he 
narrated  the  full  circumstances  surrounding  his 
purchase  of  the  Madison  Street  house. 

"Certainly  I  ain't  no  lawyer  nor  nothing,"  he 
continued,  "but  when  old  Max  Baurn  died  you  was 


DEAD   MEN'S   SHOES  109 

due  to  get  just  as  much  as  your  Uncle  Nathan  out 
of  his  estate,  and  if  Nathan  Baum  swindled  me  out  of 
my  money  by  claiming  he  owns  the  whole  thing  that 
couldn't  give  me  no  right  to  your  share,  ain't  it?" 

Max  nodded. 

"Then  what  ain't  mine  I  don't  want  at  all," 
Uncle  Mosha  continued;  "and  so,  Maxie,  you  and 
me  gives  Leon  Sammet  here  a  deed  of  the  house  and 
Leon  pays  us  the  balance  of  eight  thousand  dollars. 
Out  of  that  you  get  four  thousand  three  hundred 
and  seventy-five  dollars,  because  me,  I  already  got 
seven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  Are  you  agreeable 
to  fix  it  that  way,  Sammet?" 

Leon  looked  at  Aaron  Kronberg,  who  was  gulping 
convulsively  in  an  effort  to  express  adequately  all 
he  felt.  At  length  he  commenced  to  address  his 
uncle  in  husky  tones. 

"You  cut-throat!"  he  croaked.  "You  robber, 
you !  You  shed  my  blood !  Give  me  back  my  seven 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars." 

"Your  seven  hundred  and  fifty!"  Uncle  Mosha 
exclaimed. 

"That's  what  I  said,"  Aaron  went  on.  His  voice 
rose  to  a  hoarse  scream  as  he  proceeded.  "Did 
you  think  any  one  else  woud  give  forty-three  thou 
sand  dollars  for  that  dawg-house  but  me?  Sammet 
ain't  got  nothing  to  do  with  it;  he's  only  a  dummy." 

"So!"  Leon  Sammet  said  bitterly.  "I  am  only 
a  dummy?  am  I?" 


no  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Wait  one  minute!"  Uncle  Mosha  cried.  "Do 
you  mean  to  told  me,  Mr.  Sammet,  that  you  was 
buying  this  here  house  for  Aaron?" 

"Well,  that's  about  the  size  of  it,"  Leon  admitted. 

"Then  what  are  you  kicking  about?"  Uncle 
Mosha  said.  "You  are  a  dummy." 

Throughout  the  moving  scenes  of  that  entire 
afternoon  Leon  had  acted  the  part  of  disinterested 
onlooker  to  the  point  of  lethargy,  but  now  he 
fairly  glared  at  Uncle  Mosha. 

"I  don't  got  to  stay  here  to  be  called  names," 
he  said. 

"My  trouble's  what  you  got  to  stay  here  for," 
Uncle  Mosha  retorted.  "Yes,  boys;  what  d'ye 
think  for  a  highwayman  like  that  Aaron  Kronberg?" 

Aaron  blushed  a  fiery  red. 

"Come  on,  Leon,"  he  said.  "  Let's  get  out  of  this." 

"Hold  on!"  MaxGershon  shouted.  "Don't  you 
do  nothing  of  the  kind,  Sammet.  Me  and  Mr. 
Mosha  Kronberg  we  own  this  here  house  together, 
and  he  made  a  contract  with  you  to  sell  you  this 
here  house  which  I  stand  by.  Do  you  want  to 
take  it  oder  not?  Because  if  not,  we  would  keep 
your  seven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars." 

Leon  Sammet  emitted  a  huge  guffaw. 

"That  worries  me  a  whole  lot,"  he  replied.  "As 
Aaron  just  told  you,  the  seven  hundred  and  fifty 
belongs  to  him." 

"Very  true,"  Feldman  interrupted,  "but  it  was 


DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES  in 

you  who  engaged  me  to  examine  the  title,  Mr. 
Sammet,  and  my  fees  and  disbursements  in  this 
matter  amount  to  five  hundred  dollars." 

Leon  Sammet  sat  down  again. 

"Come  on,  Leon,"  Aaron  cried.  "What  are 
you  waiting  for?" 

"Do  you  mean  to  told  me,  Mr.  Feldman,  I  owe 
you  five  hundred  dollars?"  Leon  asked. 

"Five  hundred  and  eight  dollars  and  forty-two 
cents  to  be  exact,"  said  Feldman,  crunching  a  slip 
of  paper. 

"Then  all  I  got  to  say  is,"  Leon  declared,  "I  got 
here  a  certified  check  for  eight  thousand  dollars 
which  Aaron  Kronberg  gives  me,  and  I  would  sure 
hold  it  until  he  secures  me  against  your  bill." 

"Say,  lookyhere,  boys,"  Alex  Kronberg  said  at 
length,  "I've  been  listening  to  all  this  here  Megil- 
lah  and  I  ain't  said  a  word  nor  nothing.  But  I'll 
tell  you  what  I'll  do.  It's  a  cinch  that  Uncle 
Mosha  won't  go  to  live  with  Aaron  now,  so  I'll 
take  him  to  live  with  me." 

"I  am  agreeable,"  said  Uncle  Mosha. 

"Furthermore,"  Alex  continued,  "Uncle  Mosha 
and  Max  will  keep  the  house.  I  will  also  pay  Mr. 
Feldman  his  five  hundred  dollars  and  take  it  out 
of  the  seven  hundred  and  fifty  which  Aaron  paid 
Uncle  Mosha.  The  balance  of  two  hundred  arid 
fifty  Aaron  shall  have  back  again." 

"I    am    content,"   Uncle    Mosha    replied.      "I 


ii2  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

don't  want  none  of  Aaron's  money;  and  you  could 
take  it  from  me,  Alex,  Aaron  would  never  see  none 
of  my  money." 

"And  now,  gentlemen,  let  us  fix  up  this  copart 
nership  agreement,"  Max  Gershon  said  as  Aaron 
Kronberg  slunk  out  of  the  office,  followed  by  Leon 
Sammet.  "Mr.  Potash  and  Mr.  Perlmutter  have 
wasted  pretty  near  the  whole  afternoon  here." 

"That's  all  right,"  Abe  said.  "I  don't  consider 
we  wasted  any  time.  Many  a  night  I  threw  away 
four  dollars  taking  a  customer  on  the  theayter  yet, 
when  the  show  wasn't  near  so  good  as  what  we  seen 
it  this  afternoon;  and  the  customer  ain't  bought  no 
goods  off  me  anyhow." 

"Don't  you  worry  yourself  about  that,  Abe!" 
Max  cried.  "You  got  a  couple  of  customers  at 
this  show  which  they  would  buy  goods  from  you 
so  long  as  we  are  in  business,  and  don't  you  forget 
it.  Ain't  I  right,  Alex?" 

Alex  nodded. 

"Come  on,  Uncle  Mosha,"  he  said.  "Come 
inside  with  us  and  see  this  through." 

"I'll  wait  out  here,"  Uncle  Mosha  replied.  "I 
got  enough  excitement  for  one  afternoon." 

He  waited  until  Mr.  Jones,  of  the  title  company, 
had  packed  up  his  papers,  and  then  after  Henry 
D.  Feldman  had  followed  the  others  into  the  adjoin 
ing  room  and  had  closed  the  door  behind  him,  Uncle 
Mosha  touched  the  button  on  Feldman's  desk. 


DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES  113 

"Go  out  and  buy  for  me  an  evening  paper,"  he 
said  to  the  boy  who  responded. 

"Say,"  the  boy  replied,  "there  was  a  doctor 
waiting  to  see  you  for  more  than  half  an  hour." 

"Tell  him  to  wait  a  little  longer  yet,"  Mosha  re 
joined.  "I  may  got  to  have  him  after  I  am  seeing 
the  paper." 

"He  ain't  here  now,"  the  boy  said.  "He  went 
away  and  says  you  should  send  him  a  check  for 
five  dollars." 

"I  hope  he  don't  need  the  money  for  nothing 
particular,"  Uncle  Mosha  commented;  "on  account 
he  stands  a  good  show  to  be  disappointed.  Hurry 
up  with  the  paper." 

Ten  minutes  afterward  the  boy  returned.  He 
handed  an  evening  paper  to  Uncle  Mosha,  who 
hastily  planted  a  pair  of  pince-nez  on  his  broad, 
flat  nose  and  folded  back  the  financial  page. 

"Now  let's  give  a  look,"  he  murmured  to  himself 
as  he  glanced  hastily  at  the  column  marked  "The 
Stock  Market." 

At  the  head  of  the  list  appeared  the  following 
item: 

Sales  Highest         Lowest         Closing        Net  Ch'g 

45100  Amal.  Ref.        46!  38^  38^  —4! 

"Wiped  again!"  he  muttered  as  he  dropped  the 
paper  to  the  floor. 

Half  an  hour  later,  when  Alex  and  Max  Gershon 


ii4  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

came  out  of  the  adjoining  room  with  the  copartner 
ship  agreement  duly  executed,  they  found  Uncle 
Mosha  calmly  smoking  the  last  of  his  cigar  while 
he  pondered  over  the  "News  for  Investors"  column. 
The  tabulated  list  of  quotations  was  not  unnoticed 
by  Max  as  he  felt  for  another  cigar  to  present  to 
the  old  man. 

"Do  you  ever  speculate  in  Wall  Street,  Mr.  Kron- 
berg?"  he  asked. 

"Oncet  upon  a  time  I  used  to,"  Uncle  Mosha 
replied,  "but  never  no  more,  Maxie.  It's  a  game 
which  you  couldn't  beat  —  take  it  from  me,  Maxie 
—  not  if  you  was  a  hundred  times  so  smart  as  Old 
Man  Baum." 

"Well,  Abe,"  Morris  Perlmutter  remarked  as 
they  sat  in  their  showroom  ten  days  after  the  events 
above  noted,  "I  did  mix  up  in  Alex  Kronberg's 
family  matters  and,  with  all  your  croaking,  what  is 
the  result?  Alex  has  got  a  good  partner;  Uncle 
Mosha  has  got  a  good  home,  and  ourselves  we  got  a 
good  order  for  three  thousand  dollars,  which  other 
wise  we  wouldn't  got  at  all." 

"What  are  you  talking  nonsense,  Mawruss?" 
Abe  said.  "Things  wouldn't  turned  out  the  way 
they  did  if  it  wouldn't  be  I  met  Max  Gershon  in 
Hammersmith's.  That's  what  started  it,  Mawruss." 

"Nothing  of  the  kind,  Abe,"  Morris  retorted. 
"What  started  it,  Abe,  was  me  when  I  went  down 


/ 


DEAD  MEN'S  SHOES  115 

to  Madison  Street  and  give  Uncle  Mosha  that 
cigar,  Abe.  I  tell  you,  Abe,  it's  an  old  saying  and 
a  true  one:  Throw  away  a  loaf  of  bread  in  the 
water,  y'understand,  and  sooner  or  later,  Abe,  it 
would  come  home  like  chickens  to  roost." 


CHAPTER  FOUR 
THE  RAINCOAT  KING 

THE  table  is  all  right,  Mawruss,"  Abe  Potash 
remarked  as  he  consulted  the  timecard  of 
the  Long  Island  Railroad  one  hot  July  after 
noon.  "The  table  is  all  right;  I  ain't  kicking  about 
the  table,  y'understand,  but  the  class  of  people  which 
they  stay  in  the  house,  Mawruss,  is  pretty  schlecht. 
My  Rosie  couldn't  get  along  with  'em  at  all." 

"You  don't  tell  me!"  Morris  replied.  "Ries- 
enberger's  is  got  a  big  reputation,  Abe,  and  when 
me  and  Minnie  stayed  there  two  years  ago  there  was 
an  elegant  class  of  people  stopping  in  the  house. 
Would  you  believe  me,  Abe,  I  tried  to  get  up  a  game 
of  auction  pinocle  there  and  I  couldn't  do  it!  No 
body  would  play  less  than  a  dollar  a  hundred.  I'm 
surprised  to  hear  the  place  is  run  down  so." 

"Oh,  if  the  house's  got  a  big  reputation  for  auc 
tion  pinocle,  Mawruss,  then  that's  something  else 
again!  They  play  just  as  high  as  former  times. 
Sidney  Koblin  lost  forty  dollars  last  night.  With 
my  own  eyes  I  seen  it,  Mawruss;  and  his  father  looks 
on  and  don't  say  nothing." 

116 


THE  RAINCOAT  KING  117 

"What  does  Max  Koblin  care  for  forty  dollars, 
Abe?"  Morris  said.  "The  feller's  a  millionaire. 
He's  got  ten  pages  of  advertising  in  the  Cloak  and 
Suit  Monthly  Gazette.  I  bet  yer  he  spends  more  as 
forty  dollars  for  one  page  already.  Wait;  I'll  show 
it  to  you." 

Morris  opened  the  green-covered  periodical  ind 
displayed  a  full-page  "ad." 


MAX  KOBLIN 
KING   OF   RAINCOATS 

"KOBLINETTE,"  THE   RAINSHED   FABRIC 


WEST   2OTH    STREET 
NEW   YORK 


"Sure,  I  know,  Mawruss,"  Abe  commented. 
"He  was  always  a  big  faker,  that  feller.  Twenty 
years  since  already  I  used  to  eat  by  Gifkin's  on 
Canal  Street,  and  one  day  Max  Koblin  comes  in 
and  says  to  me,  'Abe,'  he  says,  'I  want  you  should 
drink  a  bottle  tchampanyer  wine  on  me.'  In  them 
days  Max  works  for  old  man  Zudosky  selling  boys' 
reefers.  Raincoats  was  like  oitermobiles;  no  one 
had  discovered  'em  yet.  *  What's  the  matter, 
Max?'  I  says.  'Old  man  Zudosky  given  you  a 
raise?'  I  says.  ' Raise  nothing,'  Max  says.  'I 
got  a  boy  up  to  my  house.'  'So,'  I  says,  'just  be- 


n8  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

cause  you  got  a  boy,  Max,  I  should  got  a  headache 
and  neglect  my  business?'  I  says.  'An  idee!'  I 
says.  'Take  the  dollar  and  a  quarter,  Max,'  I  says, 
'and  put  it  in  the  savings  bank,  and  every  time  you 
give  the  boy  a  penny  make  him  put  it  away  with  the 
other  money,'  I  says;  'and  the  first  thing  you  know, 
Max,'  I  says,  'when  the  boy  gets  to  be  twenty  years 
old  he's  got  anyhow  a  couple  hundred  dollars  in  the 
savings  bank." 

"And  what  did  Max  say?"  Morris  asked. 

"He  laughs  at  me,  Mawruss,"  Abe  replied.  "He 
says  to  me,  'when  that  boy  gets  to  be  twenty 
years  old  he  wouldn't  need  to  got  to  have  a  couple 
hundred  dollars  in  the  savings  bank.  I  could  give 
him  all  the  money  he  wants  it." 

"Well,  Max  was  right,  ain't  it?"  Morris  rejoined. 
"He  could  give  the  boy  all  the  money  he  wants." 

"Money  ain't  everything  what  that  boy  wants, 
Mawruss,"  Abe  said.  "A  good  potch  on  the  side  of 
the  head  oncet  in  a  while  is  what  that  boy  wants. 
So  fresh  that  young  feller  is,  Mawruss,  you  wouldn't 
believe  it  at  all.  Actually  he  runs  an  oitermobile 
what  Max  bought  it  for  him  for  fifteen  hundred 
dollars,  a  birthday  present,  besides  the  other  big 
car  which  Koblin  got  it.  Max  oser  runs  oitermobiles 
at  Sidney's  age.  Piece  goods  on  a  pooshcart  from 
old  man  Zudosky's  to  the  sponger's  was  all  the 
oitermobiling  Max  done  it.  To-day  they  are  putting 
on  style  yet.  Suckers!" 


THE  RAINCOAT  KING  119 

"Well,  say,  Abe,"  Morris  protested,  "what  is 
it  skin  off  your  nose  supposing  Max  does  buy 
oitermobiles  for  the  boy?  This  is  a  free  country, 
Abe." 

"Sure,  I  know,  Mawruss,"  Abe  declared,  as  he 
revealed  the  nub  of  the  whole  matter;  "and  sup 
posing  my  Rosie  don't  play  poker,  which,  Gott  sei 
dank,  she  couldn't  tell  a  king  from  an  ace,  what  is 
that  Mrs.  Koblin's  business?  She  ain't  supposed  to 
know  that,  Mawruss,  and  yet  she  didn't  invite  my 
Rosie  to  her  poker  party.  Rosie  wouldn't  of  gone 
anyhow,  Mawruss;  but  that  ain't  the  point.  Ain't 
my  Rosie  just  as  good  as  Mrs.  Klinger  oder  Mrs. 
Elenbogen?  Particularly  Mrs.  Elenbogen,  which, 
three  years  ago  even,  Kleiman  &  Elenbogen  was 
still  rated  ten  to  fifteen  thousand,  third  credit. 
Only  in  the  last  two  years  they  are  coming  up  so; 
and  the  way  that  Mrs.  Elenbogen  acts,  you  would 
think  her  husband  got  a  bank  in  Frankfort-am- 
Main  when  Rothschild  was  a  new  beginner  yet. 
Such  fakers  as  them  is  too  good  for  my  Rosie, 
Mawruss.  An  idee!" 

"What  do  you  worry  yourself  about  women's 
fighting,  Abe?"  Morris  asked. 

"Me  worry  myself,  Mawruss!"  Abe  cried.  "I 
much  care  for  them  people,  Mawruss.  I  am  married 
to  my  Rosie  now  going  on  twenty-six  years,  will  be 
next  May,  and  if  I  didn't  know  that  she's  got  it  on 
every  one  of  them  cows  in  looks,  in  refinement  and 


120  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

in  every  which  way,  Mawruss,  then  I  could  worry, 
Mawruss.  As  it  is,  Mawruss,  for  my  part  they 
could  play  poker  till  they  are  black  in  the  face  — 
what  is  it  my  business  ?  I  got  enough  to  attend  to 
here  in  the  store,  Mawruss,  without  I  should  bother 
myself." 

"I  bet  yer!"  Morris  agreed  fervently.  "That 
reminds  me,  Abe,  Shapolnik  is  leaving  us  on 
Saturday." 

"Well,  Mawruss,  I  couldn't  exactly  break  my 
heart  about  that,  y 'understand?"  Abe  replied. 
"Skirt-cutters  you  could  always  get  plenty  of  'em. 
What's  the  matter  he  ain't  satisfied?" 

"Nothing's  the  matter,"  Morris  said.  "He  is 
simply  going  into  the  pants  business.  His  brother- 
in-law  is  got  a  small  place  downtown  and  he  is  going 
as  partners  together  with  him.  They  ought  to 
make  a  success  of  it  too,  Abe,  if  nerve  would  got 
anything  to  do  with  it.  The  feller  actually  wants 
me  I  should  give  him  an  introduction  to  Feder  of  the 
Kosciusko  Bank." 

"Sure;  why  not?"  Abe  commented. 

"Why  not?"  Morris  repeated.  "What  would 
Feder  think  of  us  if  we  are  bringing  a  yokel  like 
Shapolnik  into  his  office?  The  feller  ain't  been  two 
years  in  the  country  yet." 

"Don't  knock  a  feller  like  Shapolnik  just  because 
he  ain't  putting  on  no  front  nor  throwing  no  bluffs, 
Mawruss,"  Abe  retorted.  "It's  the  faker  with  the 


THE  RAINCOAT  KING  121 

four-carat  diamond  pin  which  is  doing  his  creditors, 
Mawruss,  but  the  yokel  with  the  soup  on  his  coat 
pays  a  hundred  cents  on  the  dollar  every  time." 

Half  an  hour  later  Abe  conducted  his  retiring  skirt- 
cutter  to  the  Fifth  Avenue  branch  of  the  Kosciusko 
Bank,  and  as  they  approached  the  corner  of  Nine 
teenth  Street  on  their  return  they  encountered  Max 
Koblin,  the  Raincoat  King.  He  was  about  to  enter 
the  tonneau  of  an  automobile,  while  Sidney  Koblin, 
the  Heir  Apparent,  sat  at  the  tiller  arrayed  in  a  silk 
duster  and  goggles.  Max  grinned  maliciously  as  he 
noted  Abe's  shabby,  bearded  companion. 

"Always  entertaining  the  out-of-town  trade,  Abe?" 
he  said. 

Abe  relaxed  his  features  in  what  he  intended  for  a 
smile,  but  afterward  he  turned  to  Shapolnik  with  a 
scowl. 

"Only  one  thing  I  got  to  tell  you,  Shapolnik," 
he  declared.  "  Nowadays,  if  a  feller  wants  to  make  a 
success  he  must  got  to  wear  good  clothes  and  look 
like  a  mensch,  y 'understand?  It  never  harms  in 
business,  Shapolnik,  that  a  feller  should  throw  some 
times,  oncet  in  a  while,  a  little  bluff." 

Between  the  ages  of  sixteen  and  twrenty  Sidney 
Koblin  had  so  often  tested  the  maxim,  "Boys  will  be 
boys,"  that  Max  Koblin 's  patience  at  length  be 
came  exhausted.  "Do  you  mean  to  told  me  you 
ain't  got  one  cent  left  from  that  forty  I  gave  you  on 


122  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Saturday?"  Max  asked  on  the  Monday  morning 
following  Shapolnik's  resignation. 

"Aw,  what's  biting  you?"  Sidney  cried.  "You 
sat  behind  me  last  night  and  if  it  wouldn't  been  for 
you  I  wouldn't  of  played  that  last  four-hundred 
hand  at  all.  Cost  forty-eight  dollars,  that  advice 
of  yours." 

This  was  a  facer,  to  be  sure,  and  Max  paused 
before  formulating  a  rejoinder. 

"  In  the  first  place,  Sidney,"  he  began,  "  you  didn  't 
got  no  right  to  lead  no  trump.  I  told  you  before 
lots  of  times,  if  you  got  the  extra  ten,  get  rid  of  your 
meld  first.  And  in  the  second  place,  Sidney,  I 
wouldn't  stand  for  your  extravagance  no  longer. 
It's  time  you  turned  around  and  attended  to 
business." 

"Aw,  you  never  give  me  no  show!"  Sidney  pro 
tested.  "You  keep  me  monkeying  around  while 
other  young  fellers  is  out  on  the  road.  Look  at 
Mortie  Savin  and  all  them  boys." 

"  Sure,  I  know,"  Max  rejoined.  "They  got  heads 
on  'em.  You  couldn  't  add  up  eight  figures  together, 
and  at  your  age  for  a  feller  to  write  a  hand  like  that, 
Sidney " 

"What  are  you  kicking  about?"  Sidney  exclaimed. 
"When  you  was  my  age  you  couldn't  sign  your 


name  even." 


"Well,  that  ain't  here  nor  there,  Sidney,"  Max 
replied  as  he  pulled  a  bill  from  the  roll  which  he 


THE   RAINCOAT  KING  123 

produced  from  his  trousers  pocket.  "Here  is  ten 
dollars  and  that's  got  to  last  you  till  Saturday  night. 
D'ye  understand?" 

Sidney  grunted  as  he  tucked  the  bill  into  his 
waistcoat.  He  had  heard  the  same  ultimatum  once 
a  week  for  the  past  two  years,  and  he  whistled  cheer 
fully  as  he  despatched  one  of  the  stock  boys  for  a 
package  of  cigarettes.  An  hour  later  he  lunched  at 
Hammersmith 's,  while  Abe  Potash  sat  at  an  adjacent 
table.  As  he  consumed  a  modest  portion  of  rostbraten, 
Abe  noted  with  a  disapproving  eye  the  cherry-stone 
clams,  green-turtle  soup  and  filet  Chateaubriand 
which  formed  the  menu  of  the  Heir  Apparent; 
and  when  the  latter  topped  off  his  meal  with  half 
a  pint  of  dry  champagne  and  a  cafe  parfait  Abe 
seized  his  hat  and  fairly  ran  from  the  restaurant. 

"If  nobody  would  tell  that  feller  Koblin  what  a 
lowlife  bum  he  got  it  for  a  son,  Mawruss,"  he  said 
as  he  entered  the  firm's  private  office  ten  minutes 
later,  "I  will.  Actually  with  my  own  eyes  I  seen 
it  —  the  feller  eats  for  five  dollars  a  lunch,  and  he 
ain't  with  a  customer  nor  nothing." 

"What  is  it  your  business  what  Sidney  Koblin 
is  eating,  Abe  ? "  Morris  rejoined.  "  If  you  wouldn  't 
notice  every  mouthful  the  feller  puts  in  his  face  at  all 
you  would  be  back  here  a  whole  lot  sooner.  There's 
a  feller  waiting  for  you  in  the  showroom  over  half 
an  hour  since." 

"Who  is  he?  "Abe  asked. 


124  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

"I  think  it's  that  Mr.  —  Who's  this,  from  Seattle, 
which  he  was  in  here  last  fall  and  nearly  bought 
from  us  them  polo  coats?  I  couldn't  tell  his  face 
exactly,  but  you  remember  what  a  swell  dresser 
that  feller  was." 

Abe  peered  through  the  screen  that  divided  the 
rooms. 

"I  think  you're  right,  Mawruss/'  he  said. 

"I  couldn't  remember  his  name,"  Morris  added, 
"and  that's  why  I  didn't  talk  much  to  him.  All 
I  says  was  you  would  be  in  soon;  and  I  give  him  a 
cigar  from  the  safe." 

Abe  nodded  and  walked  hurriedly  out  of  the  office. 
As  he  approached  his  caller  he  extended  his  right 
hand. 

"How  do  you  do?"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  shook  his 
visitor  warmly  by  the  hand.  "  You  're  looking  fine." 

The  visitor  smiled  in  return. 

"I  thought  you  were  going  to  tell  me  that,"  he 
replied. 

"Yes,  indeed!  You're  looking  a  whole  lot  better 
than  the  last  time  I  seen  you,"  Abe  said.  "When 
did  you  get  in?" 

"  I  am  here  now  going  on  half  an  hour  already." 

"Well,  why  didn't  you  talk  to  my  partner?" 
Abe  asked.  "He  could  fix  you  up  just  as  well  as 
me." 

"I  did  talk  to  him,"  the  newcomer  replied,  "but 
he  is  too  stuck  up  to  talk  to  me  at  all." 


THE  RAINCOAT  KING  125 

"Stuck  up!"  Abe  exclaimed,  with  a  note  of  real 
anguish  in  his  tones.  "Stuck  up!  Why,  you  don't 
know  my  partner  at  all,  Mister  —  er  —  excuse  me, 
do  you  got  a  card  ? " 

The  stranger  drew  a  card  from  his  waistcoat 
pocket  and  with  a  proud  gesture  handed  it  to  Abe. 
It  read  as  follows: 


Z.    KATZBERG  I.    SCHAPP 

KATZBERG  &  SCHAPP 
FINE  PANTS 

53O  WEST  WASHINGTON  PLACE  NEW  YORK 


"I  am  taking  your  advice,  Mr.  Potash,"  he  said. 
"  I  am  taking  your  advice  all  round.  I  cut  'em  off." 

"You  cut  what  off?"  Abe  asked. 

"The  whiskers,  Mr.  Potash.  Also  I  am  making 
short  the  name.  In  Russland  Shapolnik  is  all  right, 
Mr.  Potash;  but  if  a  feller  wants  to  make  a  suc 
cess  in  business  he  should  be  a  little  up  to  date, 
ain't  it?" 

The  cordial  smile  faded  from  Abe's  face  as  he 
recognized  his  visitor. 

"There's  such  a  thing  as  being  too  much  up  to 
date,  Shapolnik,"  he  said.  "You  ain't  got  no  right 
to  fool  my  partner  like  that.  Me,  you  couldn  't  fool 
for  a  minute.  Right  away  I  says  to  myself,  'Here 


i26  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

is  a  feller  which  he  wants  to  ask  us  something  we 
should  do  him  for  a  favour.'  So,  spit  it  out,  Sha- 
polnik.  What  is  it  you  want  from  us?" 

"Well,  it's  like  this,  Mr.  Potash,"  Shapolnik 
began.  "  Me  and  my  partner  we  are  wanting  to  take 
on  somebody  for  a  drummer,  y 'understand.  We 
must  got  it  some  one  which  he  is  already  got  a  trade. 
Aber  he  couldn't  ask  for  too  much  money  at  the  start 
on  account  we  are  going  slow.  If  you  know  some 
young  feller  which  he  wants  the  job  me  and  my 
partner  would  be  much  obliged,  Mr.  Potash." 

"What  d'ye  think  we  are  running  here  anyway, 
Shapolnik,"  Abe  retorted  —  "an  employment 
agency?" 

"I  am  just  taking  chances  might  you  would 
know  somebody,  maybe,"  Shapolnik  murmured 
as  he  rose  to  his  feet.  He  seemed  much  relieved  at 
Abe's  refusal.  "And  I  hope  you  don't  think  I  am 
doing  something  out  of  the  way.  You  know,  Mr. 
Potash,  me  and  my  partner  we  think  a  whole  lot  of 
your  judgment,  and  if  you  would  give  us  an  advice 
we  are  willing  we  should  follow  it." 

"Well,  I  ain't  mad  at  you,  Shapolnik,"  Abe  said 
more  mildly;  "but  all  the  same,  if  you  want  to  get 
a  drummer  you  got  a  right  to  advertise  for  one." 

"We  would  do  so,"  Shapolnik  replied,  "and  if  you 
would  be  in  our  Nachbarschaft  oncet  in  a  while,  Mr. 
Potash,  me  and  my  partner  would  consider  it  an 
honour  if  you  are  dropping  in  to  see  us.  We  only  got 


THE  RAINCOAT  KING  127' 

a  small  place,  Mr.  Potash."  He  paused  and  fingered 
the  texture  of  his  waistcoat.  "But  everything  will 
be  up  to  date,  Mr.  Potash,"  he  concluded,  "just  like 
you  advised  us  to." 

Abe  watched  his  late  skirt-cutter  disappear  into 
the  elevator,  and  then  he  returned  to  the  office  where 
Morris  impatiently  awaited  him. 

"Nu,  Abe,"  Morris  cried  as  he  entered. 

"Yes,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said  with  cutting  emphasis: 
"good  cigars  don't  care  who  smokes  'em.  I  suppose 
if  Nathan,  the  shipping  clerk,  would  come  in  here 
with  a  collar  and  tie  on  and  a  clean  shave,  you  would 
want  to  blow  him  to  a  bottle  of  tchampanyer  wine 
yet.  Just  because  a  feller  shaves  off  his  beard  and 
buys  himself  a  new  suit  of  clothes  you  couldn  't  recog 
nize  him  at  all.  That  was  Shapolnik  which  just 
went  out  of  here." 

"Shapolnik!"  Morris  exclaimed.  "That  dude 
was  Shapolnik?  Well,  what  d'ye  think  for  a  crook 
like  that!" 

"Crooked  Shapolnik  ain't  exactly,"  Abe  inter 
rupted;  "but  it  should  be  a  lesson  to  you,  Mawruss, 
that  you  wouldn't  be  so  free  with  our  cigars.  All 
the  feller  wants  from  us  is  we  should  recommend  him 
a  drummer." 

"The  nerve  the  feller  got  it!"  Morris  cried.  "He 
comes  around  here  throwing  bluffs  he  needs  a  drum 
mer  yet.  A  new  beginner  like  him  ain't  going  to 
hire  no  drummer,  Abe.  I  bet  yer  he  takes  his  pants 


128  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

under  his  arms  and  sees  them  Fourteenth  Street 
buyers  on  his  way  downtown  in  the  morning.  He 
ain't  got  no  more  use  for  a  drummer  than  I  got  it 
for  an  airship." 

"My  tzuris  if  he  has  or  he  hasn't!"  Abe  exclaimed. 
"I  anyhow  told  him  he  should  advertise  for  one, 
as  we  are  not  running  an  employment  agency  here, 
Mawruss;  and  so,  Mawruss,  let's  get  busy  on  that 
order  for  Griesman.  I  want  to  get  away  from  here 
sure  at  five  o'clock  to-day.  What  is  the  good  I  am 
staying  down  at  Riesenberger's  if  I  never  get  a  show 
to  take  oncet  in  a  while  a  sea  bath,  maybe?" 

Nevertheless  it  was  ten  minutes  past  five  before 
Abe  boarded  a  crosstown  car;  and,  although  he  made 
a  wild  sprint  from  the  ferry  landing  on  the  Long 
Island  side,  he  arrived  at  the  trainshed  just  in  time 
to  see  the  rear  platform  of  the  five-forty-five  for 
Arverne  disappearing  in  a  cloud  of  black  smoke. 

He  returned  to  the  waiting  room,  and  as  he  was 
sadly  inspecting  the  outer  pages  of  the  comic  pe 
riodicals  displayed  in  the  news-stand  a  heavy  hand 
clapped  him  on  the  shoulder. 

" Hello,  Abe!"  cried  a  hearty  voice,  and  Abe 
turned  to  view  the  perspiring  features  of  Max  Kob- 
iin,  the  Raincoat  King.  Abe  returned  the  saluta 
tion  without  much  enthusiasm. 

"Why  ain't  you  going  down  in  the  oitermobile, 
Ldax?"  he  asked.  "Millionaires  ain't  got  no  excuse 
3L03T  missing  trains  like  ordinary  people." 


THE  RAINCOAT  KING  129 

Max  laughed  in  an  embarrassed  fashion. 

"Millionaires  is  got  their  troubles  too,  Abe,"  he 
said.  "Even  when  they  ain't  millionaires." 

"I  should  have  your  trouble!"  Abe  commented. 

"I  got  enough,  Abe,  believe  me,"  Max  rejoined. 
"Everything  I  got  to  look  after  myself.  My  credit 
man  leaves  me  next  week;  and  I  got  other  worries 
besides  that  one,  too." 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Abe  said  as  they  started  for  the 
smoker  of  the  six-ten;  "and  the  biggest  one  you  got 
only  yourself  to  blame  for  it." 

"What  d'ye  mean,  Abe?"  Max  asked. 

"I  mean  this,  Max,"  Abe  declared.  "I  am 
knowing  you  now  since  twenty  years  already,  and 
if  I  am  butting  in  you  could  know  it  ain't  because 
I  am  fresh,  y 'understand,  but  because  I  got  your 
interests  at  heart.  That  boy  of  yours  goes  too 
far,  Max." 

Max  drew  a  cigar  from  his  waistcoat  pocket  and 
carefully  bit  off  the  end.  "How  so?"  he  inquired. 

"Well,  in  a  whole  lot  of  ways,  Max,"  Abe  con 
tinued,  after  they  were  seated;  "and  mind  you,  I 
know  it  ain't  none  of  my  business,  Max,  but  when  I 
see  that  boy  come  into  Hammersmith's  to-day  and 
eat  for  five  dollars  a  lunch,  with  a  bottle  of  tcham- 
panyer  wine  yet,  Max,  I  couldn't  help  myself.  I 
got  to  say  something." 

Max  scowled  and  spat  out  the  end  of  his  cigar. 

"Of  course,  Max/'  Abe  added,  usins:  his  partner's 


130  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

metaphor,  "it  ain't  no  skin  off  my  nose,  y 'under 
stand." 

"Ain't  it?"  Max  growled  as  he  turned  on  Abe 
with  a  menacing  glare.  "Well,  it's  a  wonder  it 
ain't,  the  way  you  are  sticking  it  into  other  people's 
business.  If  you  think  I  care  what  you  think  about 
what  my  boy  eats  for  his  lunch  you  are  making  a 
big  mistake.  I  could  take  care  of  my  own  boy, 
Potash,  and  I  am  just  as  much  obliged  if  you  would 
do  the  same." 

Abe  flushed  a  fiery  red  and  rose  to  his  feet. 

"I  guess  I  would  go  into  the  next  car,"  he  said. 

"You  could  go  a  whole  lot  farther  for  all  I  care!" 
Max  retorted,  and  immediately  buried  his  head 
between  the  open  pages  of  a  conservative  even 
ing  paper. 

Abe  had  not  offended  in  vain,  however,  for  after 
dinner  that  night,  when  Sidney  sought  his  father  in 
the  Koblins'  suite  at  Riesenberger's  cottage,  the 
King  was  in  an  ugly  mood. 

"Say,  Pop,"  Sidney  began,  "how  about  you  for 
twenty  till  Saturday  night?" 

"What  d'ye  mean?"  Max  bellowed.  "Ain't 
I  given  you  ten  dollars  only  this  morning?" 

Sidney  laughed  uncomfortably.  "Ain't  you  the 
old  tightwad!"  he  said. 

Max's  reply  to  this  observation  wras  quite  un 
precedented  in  all  Sidney's  experience.  It  took  the 
form  of  an  open-handed  blow  on  the  cheek,  the  first 


THE  RAINCOAT  KING  131 

ever  administered  by  his  indulgent  parent  since 
Sidney's  infancy.  Forthwith  began  a  family  row 
that  brought  the  entire  household  —  guests,  servants 
and  proprietress  —  on  the  run  to  the  Koblin  apart 
ments.  When  Mrs.  Koblin 's  frightened  screams 
had  ceased,  and  Max  Koblin  had  calmed  down  suf 
ficiently  to  offer  an  evasive  explanation,  the  guests 
trooped  back  to  the  piazza,  and  three  games  of 
auction  pinocle,  which  had  started  in  the  dining-room 
after  the  tables  had  been  cleared,  came  to  an  abrupt 
close.  Instead,  the  players  foregathered  with  the 
other  guests  in  the  porch  rockers. 

There  they  discussed  the  incident  until  nearly 
midnight;  and,  as  no  one  had  been  an  eyewitness 
of  the  affray,  there  were  as  many  versions  of  it  as 
may  be  mathematically  demonstrated  where  one 
blow  is  struck  among  three  persons.  Some  had  it 
that  Sidney  had  attacked  his  father  and  others  that 
Mrs.  Koblin  had  assaulted  Sidney,  but  a  large 
feminine  majority  favoured  a  construction  of  the 
matter  as  one  of  wife-beating.  Abe  alone  cor 
rectly  surmised  the  turn  that  Sidney's  affairs  had 
taken  and  he  sat  on  the  piazza,  in  conscience- 
stricken  solitude  long  after  all  the  other  guests  had 
retired. 

He  blamed  himself  for  the  entire  affair  and  he 
smoked  cigar  after  cigar  before  he  sought  his  bed. 
As  he  walked  up  the  broad  staircase  he  met  Max 
Koblin  at  the  first  landing. 


ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Max,"  he  said,  "where  are  you  going  this  time 
of  night?" 

Max  stopped  short.  His  eyes  blazed  in  a  face  so 
careworn  and  haggard  that,  to  Abe,  he  seemed  to 
have  aged  ten  years  since  their  meeting  that  after 
noon. 

"This  is  what  comes  of  your  butting  in!"  Max 
cried  bitterly.  "The  boy  went  out  right  after  we 
had  the  fuss  and  he  ain't  come  back." 

He  paused  to  choke  down  a  hysterical  lump  in  his 
throat. 

"And  God  knows  what's  become  of  him!"  he 
sobbed  as  he  continued  down  the  stairs. 

Abe  tossed  on  his  pillow  all  night;  and  when  at 
breakfast  he  learned  that  Sidney  Koblin  had  not 
returned,  he  swallowed  with  difficulty  a  cup  of  coffee 
and  left  a  steak,  two  eggs  and  a  plate  of  French-fried 
potatoes  entirely  untasted.  Thus  he  was  enabled 
to  catch  the  seven-five  instead  of  the  seven-thirty 
train.  When  he  found  himself  at  the  Thirty-fourth 
Street  Ferry  with  almost  half  an  hour  to  spare  he 
determined  to  walk  to  the  store. 

He  trudged  across  Thirty-fourth  Street  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets  and  his  head  bent  toward  the 
pavement,  a  prey  to  the  most  bitter  reflections;  and  as 
he  turned  the  corner  of  Fifth  Avenue  he  failed  to 
notice,  walking  in  the  opposite  direction,  a  tall  youth, 
well  dressed  save  for  soiled  linen.  The  latter 's  eyes 


> 


THE  RAINCOAT  KING  133 

showed  traces  of  unmistakable  tears;  and  as  they, 
too,  were  bent  upon  the  pavement  there  ensued  a 
violent  collision,  which  almost  threw  Abe  off  his  feet. 

"Why  don't  you  look  where  you're  going?"  he 
began,  and  then  he  recognized  the  object  of  his 
wrath.  " Sidney!"  he  yelled,  clutching  young  Kob- 
lin's  shoulder.  "Where  are  you  going?" 

"Let  me  alone,"  Sidney  cried  as  he  sought  to  free 
himself. 

"  Aber,  Sidney,"  Abe  pleaded,  "you  mustn't  act  so 
strange  with  me.  Did  you  got  any  breakfast  yet?'* 

Sidney  shook  his  head  sullenly. 

"Me  neither,"  Abe  cried.  "Come  on  over  to  the 
Waldorf." 

Five  minutes  later  they  sat  at  a  table  in  the  palm 
room,  while  Abe  ordered  two  whole  portions  of 
grapefruit,  a  double  portion  of  tenderloin  steak, 
souffle  potatoes,  coffee,  waffles  and  honey. 

"Now,  listen  to  me,  Sidney,"  he  began.  "You 
shouldn't  got  mad  at  your  father  just  because  he 
licks  you  oncet,  y 'understand.  My  poor  father, 
selig,  he  knocks  the  face  off  of  me  regular  twicet  a 
week,  and  I  ain't  none  the  worser  for  it." 

Sidney  hung  his  head  and  made  no  reply. 

"Furthermore,  Sidney,"  Abe  went  on,  "if  you  are 
broke  why  don't  you  say  so?" 

He  pulled  a  roll  of  bills  out  of  his  pocket  and 
handed  Sidney  twenty  dollars. 

"Just  a  loan  for  a  few  days,  y 'understand,"  he  said 


i34  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

as  the  waiter  brought  in  a  loaded  tray,  "or  a  year  — 
what's  the  difference  —  ain  't  it  ?  Now,  let 's  get  busy." 

Together  they  polished  off  the  entire  trayful  of 
food,  and  when  Abe  leaned  back  the  waiter  presented 
a  check  for  ten  dollars  and  eighty  cents. 

"Cheap  at  the  price,"  Abe  remarked  as  he  added  a 
generous  tip  to  the  amount  of  the  bill.  "And  now, 
Sidney,  I  suppose  you're  going  back  to  the  store?" 

"No,  I  ain't,"  Sidney  said.  "I  ain't  doing  no 
good  down  there;  so  what's  the  use?  The  old  man 
won't  let  me  do  nothing  down  there  and  they  all 
think  I'm  a  joke." 

"Well,  you  see,  Sidney,"  Abe  commented,  "that's 
the  way  it  goes.  It's  an  old  saying,  but  a  true  one: 
' There's  no  profit  for  a  feller  in  his  own  country.'  " 

"And  what's  more,"  Sidney  continued,  "they 
ain't  given  me  a  chance  neither.  What  I  want  to 
do  is  to  sell  goods  on  the  road." 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Abe  interrupted.  "Every 
young  feller  wants  to  go  on  the  road.  All  they  can 
see  in  it  is  riding  in  parlour  cars  and  playing  auction 
pinocle  in  four-dollar-a-day  hotels.  Believe  me, 
Sidney,  selling  goods  on  the  road,  when  you  been 
at  it  so  long  as  I  am,  is  a  dawg's  life;  and  as  for 
auction  pinocle  that's  poison  for  a  salesman." 

"Auction  pinocle  is  nothing  to  me,"  Sidney  de 
clared.  "I  swore  off." 

"Another  thing  is  lunches,  Sidney,"  Abe  went  on. 
" Ain't  it  a  funny  thing  what  a  lot  of  satisfaction 


THE  RAINCOAT  KING  135 

it  is  when  you  are  eating  zwieback  and  a  cup  of 
coffee  for  lunch?  In  the  first  place,  all  it  is  costing 
you  is  ten  cents  and  you  feel  like  a  prince.  Many 
a  big  bill  of  goods  I  sold  on  zwieback  and  coffee, 
Sidney  —  crackers  and  milk,  too.  And  now,  Sidney, 
the  best  thing  you  could  do  is  to  go  back  and  tell  the 
old  man  you  are  through  with  auction  pinocle  and 
high-price  lunches,  and  you  want  him  he  should 
give  you  a  show  you  should  sell  goods." 

Again  Sidney  shook  his  head. 

"It  ain't  no  use,  Mr.  Potash,"  Sidney  declared. 
"Pop  ain't  got  no  confidence  in  me.  If  I  was  a 
greenhorn  fresh  from  the  old  country  he  might  let 
me  start  in  and  do  something,  but " 

At  the  word  greenhorn  Abe  Potash  leaned  forward 
and  struck  the  table  with  his  open  hand. 

"By  jiminy,  Sidney!"  he  cried,  "I  know  the  very 
job  for  you.  Only  one  thing  I  must  got  to  say  to 
you,  Sidney:  you  would  got  to  commence  small; 
so  if  what  you  are  saying  about  auction  pinocle 
and  other  monkey  business  goes,  Sidney,  all  right. 
Otherwise  the  thing  is  off." 

"Sure,  it  goes,  Mr.  Potash,"  Sidney  cried. 

Abe  looked  the  Heir  Apparent  squarely  in  the 
eye  for  two  minutes  and  then  he  struck  the  table 
again. 

"I  believe  you,  Sidney,"  he  said,  "and  we  will 
right  away  take  the  car  down  to  West  Washington 
Place." 


136  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Katzberg  &  Schapp  occupied  the  top  floor  of  an 
old  private  house;  but  what  their  place  of  business 
lacked  in  size  it  made  up  in  activity.  Pressing  irons 
were  sizzling  and  banging  and  sewing  machines 
were  burring  loudly  as  Abe  and  Sidney  climbed  the 
stairs.  When  they  entered,  Shapolnik,  the  butter 
fly  of  fashion,  had  once  more  assumed  the  chrysalis 
of  his  working  clothes. 

"How  do  you  do,  Mister  Potash?"  he  cried,  all 
in  one  breath.  "Excuse  me;  I  am  looking  like  a 
slob.  We  are  busy  like  dawgs  here.  Katzberg!" 
he  yelled;  " Kimmen  Sie  hieran." 

In  response,  a  stout  figure,  clad  only  in  an  under 
shirt,  trousers  and  a  pair  of  carpet  slippers,  laid  down 
a  pressing  iron  and  shuffled  toward  the  visitors. 

"My  partner,  Mister  Katzberg,"  Shapolnik 
announced.  "He  also  looks  a  slob,  Mr.  Potash; 
but  when  we  are  getting  partitions  in,  and  our  office 
fixed  up,  no  one  would  see  him  at  all.  He  is  the 
inside  man;  and  me,  I  am  in  the  office  and  showroom. 
We're  going  to  have  a  showroom  so  soon  as  we  are 
settled  —  a  safe  too.  A  telephone  we  already  got 
it.  This  is  Mr.  Potash,  Katzberg,  and  the  other 
gentleman  I  don't  know  at  all." 

"Mr.  Koblin,"  Abe  explained;  "he  is  coming  to 
work  by  you  as  a  salesman." 

"A  salesman!"  Katzberg  exclaimed.  "Why,  we 
don't  want  no " 

Shapolnik  turned  on  him  with  a  glare. 


THE  RAINCOAT  KING  137 

"Katzberg,"  he  said,  "them  samples  you  are 
working  on  we  got  to  show  the  Magnet  Store  this 
afternoon  yet." 

Katzberg  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  returned 
to  his  pressing,  while  Shapolnik  drew  forward  two 
rickety  chairs  and  a  packing-box. 

"Have  a  seat,  Mr.  Potash;  and  Mr.  Cohen,  too," 
he  said. 

"Koblin,"  Abe  corrected. 

"Koblin,"  Shapolnik  repeated.     "Excuse  me." 

He  went  to  a  closet  in  the  corner,  and  unlocking 
it  he  exposed  the  fashionable  suit  that  he  had  worn 
at  Potash  &  Perlmutter's  the  previous  afternoon. 
From  the  right-hand  waistcoat  pocket  he  took  a 
red-banded  invincible  and  handed  it  to  Abe. 

"Have  a  smoke,  Mr.  Potash?"  he  said.  Abe  exam 
ined  the  cigar  closely  and  tucked  it  carefully  away. 
Then  he  produced  three  panatelas,  handed  one  each 
to  Sidney  and  Shapolnik  and  lit  the  other  himself. 

"About  this  here  salesman,  Mr.  Potash,"  Shapol 
nik  commented.  "I  think  I  changed  my  mind." 

Abe  blew  a  great  cloud  of  smoke  before  replying 
and  then  he  placed  an  emphatic  forefinger  upon 
Shapolnik 's  knee. 

"A  new  beginner  when  he  throws  bluffs,  Shapol 
nik,"  he  said,  "must  got  to  make  good.  You  told 
me  yesterday  you  wanted  a  salesman  and  I  am 
bringing  him  to  you." 

Shapolnik  blushed. 


138  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Sure,  I  know  I  told  it  you,  Mr.  Potash,"  he  said, 
"but  my  partner  thinks  otherwise." 

Abe  nodded. 

"The  only  use  some  people  got  for  a  partner, 
Shapolnik,"  he  commented,  "is  they  could  always 
blame  him  for  everything  they  do;  but  even  if  you 
did  come  in  my  place  just  to  show  me  what  an  ele 
gant  suit  of  clothes  and  a  fine  clean  shave  you  got 
it,  Shapolnik,  I  am  bringing  you  a  salesman 
anyhow." 

Katzberg  at  this  juncture  again  laid  down  his 
pressing  iron  and  came  forward. 

"Say,  lookyhere,  what  is  the  use  talking?"  he 
cried.  "We  don't  need  a  salesman;  and  that's 
all  there  is  to  it." 

"'S  enough,  Katzberg,"  Abe  shouted.  "You 
got  a  whole  lot  too  much  to  say  for  yourself  for  a 
new  beginner.  I  ain't  saying  you  need  a  salesman, 
Katzberg;  I  am  only  saying  that  you  are  going  to 
hire  one,  Katzberg.  And  after  you  hire  one  you  will 
quick  need  him." 

Abe  placed  his  hand  on  Sidney's  shoulder. 

"Here  is  a  young  feller  which  he  ain't  going  to 
gamble  oder  fool  away  his  time.  He  is  going  to  sell 
goods,"  he  declared.  "He  works  for  years  by  the 
biggest  raincoat  house  in  the  country,  and  he's  got 
an  acquaintance  among  the  retail  clothing  trade 
which  it  is  easy  worth  to  you  twenty-five  dollars 
a  week  and  the  regular  commissions." 


THE   RAINCOAT  KING  139 

"But  we  couldn't  afford  to  pay  no  sales 
man  twenty-five  dollars  a  week,"  Shapolnik  ex 
claimed. 

"Try  me  just  one  week,"  Sidney  said,  "and  I'll 
bring  in  enough  cash  to  pay  my  salary." 

"I  forgot  to  say,"  Abe  interrupted,  "that  he's 
also  got  a  lot  of  confidence  in  himself." 

"Maybe  I  have,"  Sidney  retorted:  "but  I'm 
going  to  make  good." 

"Certainly  you  are,"  Abe  added,  rising  from  his 
chair;  "and  now,  Katzberg,  the  whole  thing  is 
settled." 

Katzberg  shrugged  and  extended  one  palm  out 
ward  in  a  gesture  of  despair. 

"Seemingly  we  are  not  our  own  bosses  here," 
he  said. 

"Seemingly  not,"  Abe  rejoined;  "but,  just  the 
same,  if  you  will  take  on  this  young  feller  for  a  sales 
man  I  would  give  you  a  guarantirt  that  I  will  make 
good  all  you  would  lose  on  him  for  the  first  three 
months.  Is  my  word  good  enough?" 

"  Sure,  it  is ! "  Shapolnik  cried.  "  When  would  you 
come  to  work  by  us,  Mr.  Koblin?" 

"This  morning,"  Abe  answered  for  Sidney  — 
"right  now;  and  one  thing  I  must  got  to  say  to  you, 
Sidney,  before  I  go:  Stand  in  your  own  shoes  and 
don't  try  to  excuse  yourself  on  account  you  got  a 
rich  father.  Also,  if  the  old  man  makes  you  an 
offer  you  should  come  back  to  him,  turn  it  down. 


140  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

Take  it  from  me,  Sidney,  you  got  a  big  future 
here." 

With  a  parting  handshake  all  around  Abe  started 
back  to  his  place  of  business.  Five  minutes  later 
he  boarded  a  Broadway  car,  and  when  he  alighted 
at  Nineteenth  Street  he  picked  his  way  through  a 
jam  of  vehicles,  which  completely  blocked  that  nar 
row  thoroughfare.  As  he  was  about  to  set  foot 
on  the  sidewalk  he  caught  sight  of  the  gray,  drawn 
countenance  of  the  Raincoat  King,  who  sat  beside 
his  chauffeur  on  the  front  seat  of  a  touring  car. 

"Say,  Max,"  Abe  cried,  "I  want  to  speak  to  you 
a  few  words  something." 

Max  Koblin  turned  his  head  and  recognized 
Abe  with  a  start. 

"What  d'ye  want  from  me?"  he  said  huskily. 

"I  want  to  tell  you  the  boy  is  all  right,"  Abe 
replied. 

The  colour  surged  to  Max's  face  and  he  leaped 
wildly  from  the  automobile. 

"  What  d'ye  mean,  all  right?"  he  gasped. 

"I  mean  all  right  in  every  way,  Max,"  Abe  an 
swered;  "and  if  you  would  step  into  Hammersmith's 
for  a  minute  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it." 

"Where  is  he?"  Max  cried. 

Abe  led  the  way  to  a  table. 

"He's  where  he  should  have  been  schon  long  since 
already,"  he  said  as  they  sat  down.  "He's  got  a 
job  and  he's  going  to  make  good  on  it." 


THE  RAINCOAT  KING  141 

"What  are  you  talking  nonsense?"  Max  exploded. 
" Where  is  my  Sidney?  His  mother  is  oretty  near 
crazy." 

"She  shouldn't  worry,"  Abe  replied  calmly. 
"The  boy  is  coming  home  to-night;  and  if  I  would  be 
you,  Max,  I  would  see  to  it  he  pays  anyhow  eight 
dollars  a  week  board." 

Once  more  Max  grew  white  —  with  anger  this  time. 

"Jokes  you  are  making  with  me!"  he  bellowed. 
"Tell  me  where  my  boy  is  quick  or  I'll  — — " 

"Koosk,  Max!"  Abe  interrupted.  "You  are 
making  a  fool  of  yourself.  I  ain't  hiding  your 
boy.  Just  listen  a  few  minutes  and  I'll  tell  you  all 
about  it." 

Forthwith  he  unfolded  to  Max  a  vivid  narrative 
of  that  morning's  adventures;  when  he  concluded 
Max  had  grown  somewhat  calmer. 

"But,  Potash,"  he  protested,  "I  don't  want  the 
boy  he  should  work  by  somebody  else.  Let  him 
come  and  sell  goods  by  me." 

"He  couldn't  do  it  and  you  couldn't  neither, 
Max,"  Abe  said.  "If  he  goes  back  to  you,  Max, 
you  couldn't  change  over  the  way  youVe  been 
treating  that  boy  ever  since  he  was  born,  and  he 
sure  would  go  back  to  the  way  he  has  been  acting. 
Let  the  boy  stay  where  he  is,  Max." 

"Say,  lookyhere,  Potash,"  Max  burst  out,  "what 
are  you  butting  into  my  affairs  for?  Ain't  I  con* 
petent  to  manage  my  own  son?" 


i42  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Abe  deemed  it  the  part  of  friendship  to  remain 
silent,  but  Max  misconstrued  his  reticence. 

"O-o-h!"  he  exclaimed.  "I  see  the  whole  busi 
ness  now.  You  got  an  interest  in  this  here  pants 
factory  and  so  you  practically  kidnap  my  son.  Do 
you  know  what  I  think?  I  think  you  are  trying 
to  jolly  me  into  letting  him  stay  there  because  you 
expect  maybe  I  would  invest  some  money  in  the 
business." 

For  two  minutes  Abe  gulped  convulsively  and 
blinked  at  the  Raincoat  King  in  stunned  amaze 
ment.  Then  he  rose  slowly  to  his  feet. 

"All  right,  Koblin,"  he  said.  "I  heard  enough 
from  you.  I  wash  myself  of  the  entire  matter. 
For  my  part  you  and  your  son  could  go  to  the  devil; 
and  take  it  from  me,  it  won't  be  your  fault  if  he 
don't." 

When  Abe  entered  the  firm's  showroom  that 
morning  it  was  nearly  half-past  eleven  and  Morris 
Perlmutter  sat  behind  the  pages  of  the  Daily  Cloak 
and  Suit  Record  in  a  sulky  perusal  of  the  Arrival  of 
Buyers  column.  Before  he  looked  up  he  permitted 
Abe  to  discard  his  coat  for  an  office  jacket. 

"You  was  taking  a  sea  bath,  Abe?"  he  said  at 
length.  "Ain't  it?  I  suppose  we  v/ould  pretty 
soon  got  to  close  up  the  store  so's  you  could  take  all 
the  sea  baths  you  want.  What?" 

Abe  refrained  from  uttering  a  suitable  rejoinder 
and  made  straight  for  the  office. 


THE  RAINCOAT  KING  143 

" Mawruss ! "  he  yelled ;  "  ain  't  the  safe  open  yet  ? " 

"Never  mind  is  the  safe  open  oder  not,  Abe," 
Morris  replied.  "So  long  as  you  are  attending  to 
business  the  way  you  are,  Abe,  it  ain't  necessary 
the  safe  should  be  opened." 

Abe  grunted  and  squatted  down  in  front  of  the 
combination.  At  length  the  big  doors  swung  open 
and  he  drew  the  box  of  cigars  out  of  the  middle 
compartment. 

Morris  looked  on  with  ill-concealed  curiosity 
while  Abe  took  a  banded  Invincible  from  his  waist 
coat  pocket  and  restored  it  to  the  box  whence  it 
originally  came. 

"What's  all  that  for?"  Morris  asked. 

"That's  a  souvenir  from  a  pleasant  morning," 
Abe  replied  as  he  thrust  the  box  of  cigars  back  into 
the  safe  and  slammed  the  doors.  He  was  about  to 
return  to  the  showroom,  when  the  telephone  bell 
rang  and  Morris  took  the  receiver  from  the  hook. 

"Hello!"  he  said.  "Yes,  this  is  Potash  &  Perl- 
mutter.  He's  right  here.  Abe,  Max  Koblin  wants 
to  talk  to  you." 

"He  does,  hey?"  Abe  replied.  "Well,  I  don't 
want  to  talk  to  him." 

"You  should  tell  him  that  yourself,"  Morris  said 
as  he  walked  away  from  the  telephone.  "I  ain't 
got  nothing  to  do  with  your  quarrels." 

Abe  watched  Morris  disappear  into  the  showroom 
and  then  he  ran  to  the  telephone  and  slammed  the 


144  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

receiver  on  to  the  hook  with  force  sufficient  almost 
to  wreck  the  instrument.  At  intervals  of  a  few  sec 
onds  the  telephone  rang  for  more  than  half  an  hour. 
Fifteen  minutes  after  it  had  ceased  the  elevator  door 
opened  and  Max  Koblin  entered. 

"  Cut-throat ! "  Koblin  exclaimed.  "  I  rung  up  my 
son  and  he  wouldn't  come  back.  You  are  turning 
him  against  me  —  you  and  them  two  other  crooks. 
You  think  you  would  get  my  money  out  of  me. 
Very  well.  I'll  show  you.  I  ain't  through  with 
you  yet.  I'll  put  you  fellers  where  you  belong." 

"Don't  make  me  no  threats,  Koblin,"  Abe  said 
calmly,  " because,  in  the  first  place,  you  couldn't 
scare  me  any,  and,  in  the  second  place,  if  you  think 
I  am  trying  to  keep  your  boy  away  from  you,  you 
are  mistaken  —  that's  all.  I  already  wasted  a  whole 
morning  on  him  and,  just  to  show  you  I  ain't  such  a 
crook  as  you  think  I  am,  I  would  go  right  down  there 
now;  and  if  I  got  to  do  it  I  would  drag  that  young 
loafer  out  of  there  by  the  hair  of  his  head." 

Twenty  minutes  later  Abe  burst  into  Katzberg 
&  Schapp's  business  premises  and  asked  in  loud 
tones  for  Sidney  Koblin.  Before  the  astonished 
Shapolnik  could  reply,  Max  Koblin,  who  had  fol 
lowed  Abe  on  the  next  car,  arrived  all  breathless  and 
panted  a  similar  demand. 

"He  ain't  in  now,"  Shapolnik  replied;  "he  is  just 
going  to  his  lunch." 

"What  d'ye  mean  by  talking  to  me  on  the  'phone 


THE  RAINCOAT  KING  145 

the   way   you    did   this    morning?"    Max   shouted. 
"You  ain't  got  no  business  to  keep  my  boy  from 


me." 


"I  ain't  keeping  your  boy  from  you,"  Shapolnik 
answered;  "and  I  would  speak  to  you  whichever 
what  way  I  would  want  to.  Who  are  you  anyway  ? " 

"Koosh!  Shapolnik,"  Abe  interrupted.  "You 
are  talking  too  fresh.  Mr.  Koblin  is  right.  You 
should  fire  that  young  feller  right  away,  because 
I  am  telling  you  right  here  and  now  I  wouldn't 
guarantee  nothing  for  him  after  this." 

"What  do  I  care  what  you  would  guarantee  or 
what  you  wouldn't  guarantee?"  Shapolnik  replied. 
"The  young  feller  already  sold  for  us  this  morning 
for  five  hundred  dollars  a  bill  of  goods,  and  he  could 
stay  with  us  oder  not,  just  as  he  wants.  Further 
more,  Mr.  Potash,  I  don't  give  a  snap  of  my  fingers 
for  your  guarantirt;  this  is  my  shop  and  if  you  don't 
want  to  stay  here  you  don't  got  to." 

He  seized  a  pressing-iron  in  token  that  the  inter 
view  was  ended  and  Abe  and  Max  started  for  the 
stairs  without  another  word.  As  they  reached  the 
sidewalk  Abe  paused.  Across  the  street  a  dairy 
lunchroom  displayed  its  white-enamel  sign  and 
through  the  plate-glass  window  he  thought  he  dis 
cerned  a  familiar  figure.  He  ran  to  the  opposite 
sidewalk  and  entered  the  restaurant,  closely  followed 
by  Max,  just  as  Sidney  Koblin  was  eating  the  last 
crumbs  of  a  portion  of  zwieback  and  coffee. 


146  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Hello,  Sidney!"  Abe  said.  "What's  the  matter 
with  you  ?  Why  don 't  you  go  back  to  your  father  ? " 

Sidney  rose  to  his  feet  and  looked  first  at  Abe  and 
then  at  the  Raincoat  King. 

"What  for?"  he  asked  nonchalantly. 

"Because  he  asks  you  to,"  Abe  replied,  "and  be 
cause  I  didn't  got  no  right  to  butt  in  the  way  I  did, 
Sidney.  After  all,  your  father  is  your  father." 

"What's  biting  you  now?"  Sidney  exclaimed. 
"Ain't  you  told  me  this  morning  I  should  do  what 
I  did?" 

Abe  nodded  sadly. 

"And  didn't  you  say  me  and  the  old  man  couldn't 
give  each  other  a  square  deal  even  if  we  wanted 
to?" 

Abe  nodded  again. 

"Then  I'm  going  to  stick  to  my  job,"  Sidney 
declared  as  he  walked  toward  the  cashier's  desk. 

Abe  and  Max  trailed  after  him  and  when  they 
reached  the  sidewalk  Max  seized  his  son  by  the 
arm. 

"Sidney,  leben"  he  said;  "listen  to  me.  Come 
and  eat  anyhow  a  decent  lunch  and  we'll  talk  this 
thing  over." 

"What  for?"  Sidney  said.  "I've  had  as  much 
as  I  want  to  eat,  and  besides  I've  got  to  see  a 
fellow  up  at  the  Prince  Clarence  Hotel.  I'll  be 
at  Riesenberger's  to  dinner  to-night  about  the 
usual  time." 


THE  RAINCOAT  KING  147 

"Oh,  you  will,  will  you?"  Max  cried.  "Well,  all 
I  got  to  say  is  you've  got  to  pay  for  it  yourself." 

Sidney  broke  into  a  laugh. 

"That  worries  me  a  whole  lot!"  he  said. 
"I've  made  enough  out  of  my  commissions  to 
day  already  to  pay  a  whole  week's  board  down 
there." 

He  turned  and  started  across  the  street,  but  as 
he  reached  the  curb  he  paused. 

"Tell  mommer  she  shouldn't  worry  herself,"  he 
said.  "I'm  all  right." 

Max  looked  at  Abe  with  a  sickly  grin. 

"I  think  he  is  too,  Abe,"  he  murmured/-  "Would 
you  come  over  to  Broadway  and  take  maybe  a  little 
lunch  with  me?" 

"Zwieback  and  coffee  is  good  enough  for  me," 
Abe  replied. 

Max  linked  his  arm  in  Abe's. 

"You  shouldn't  be  mad  at  me,  Abe,"  he  said 
sadly.  "I  am  all  turned  upside  down  about  that 
boy;  and  if  zwieback  and  coffee  is  good  enough  for 
you  and  him,  Abe,  I  guess  it  must  be  too  good  for 
me.  But,  just  the  same,  I  am  going  to  eat  with  you, 
Abe,  and  we'll  let  bygones  be  bygones." 

It  was  some  weeks  before  Abe  could  bring  him 
self  to  recount  to  Morris  the  full  details  of  Sidney 
Koblin's  regeneration,  but  Morris  had  learned  the 
facts  long  before  there  appeared  in  the  advertising 


i48  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

section  of  the  Clothing  and  Haberdashery  Magazine 
the  following  full-page  advertisement: 

KATZBERG,  SCHAPP  &  KOBLIN 

Announce  the 

OPENING  OF  THEIR  NEW  OFFICE  AND  SHOWROOM 
In  the  Chicksaw  Building,  West  4th  Street, 

New  York 
MAKERS  OF  TROUSERS  FOR  FINICKY   FOLKS 

A  HEADLINER 

THE  RAINSHED  PANTS 

Manufactured  from  the  Famous  Rainproof  Fabric 

"  KOBLINETTE  " 

KEEPS  THE  LEGS   WARM  AND  DRY 

Spring  Line  Now  Ready 

It  caught  Morris's  eye  one  morning  in  January 
and  he  read  it  over  —  not  without  envy. 

"Some  people's  got  all  the  luck,  Abe,"  he  said 
bitterly. 

"I  bet  yer!"  Abe  replied,  without  looking  up  from 
his  order  book,  which  was  overflowing  with  requisi 
tions  for  spring  garments.  "I  bet  yer,  Mawruss! 
\You  take  my  Rosie  for  instance:  at  her  age  you  got 
no  idee  what  a  sport  she  is.  Yesterday  afternoon 
she  went  to  a  bridge-whist  party  by  Mrs.  Koblin's 
and  she  won  a  sterling  solid-silver  fern  dish.  And 
mind  you,  Mawruss,  she  only  just  found  out  how  to 
play  the  game." 

"Who  learned  her?"  Morris  asked. 

"Mrs.  Klinger  and  Mrs.  Elenbogen,"  Abe  replied. 
"That's  two  fine  women,  Mawruss  —  particularly 
Mrs.  Elenbogen." 


CHAPTER  FIVE 
A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY 

^  7HES,  Abe,"  Morris  Perlmutter  said  with  bitter 

I  emphasis;  "Max  Kirschner  steals  away 
trade  from  under  our  noses  while  you  fool 
away  your  time  selling  goods  to  a  feller  like  Sam 
Green." 

"What  d'ye  mean,  fool  away  my  time?"  Abe 
cried  indignantly.  "Sam  Green  is  an  old  customer 
from  ours;  and  if  Henry  Feigenbaum  gives  for  a 
couple  of  hundred  dollars  an  order  to  Max  Kirschner 
he  only  does  it  because  he's  got  pity  on  the  old  man. 
And,  anyhow,  Mawruss,  even  if  Sam  Green  is  a  little 
slow,  y 'understand,  sooner  or  later  we  get  our  money 
-ain't  it?" 

"Sure,  I  know,  Abe;  and  if  them  sooner-or-later 
fellers  would  pay  you  oncet  in  a  while  sooner,  Abe, 
it  would  be  all  right,  y  'understand.  But  they  don 't, 
Abe;  they  always  pay  you  later." 

"Well,  Sam  has  got  some  pretty  stiff  competition 
up  there,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said.  "In  the  first  place, 
Cyprus  is  too  near  Sarahcuse,  y'understand;  and  if 
one  of  them  yokels  wants  to  buy  for  thirty  dollars 

149 


150  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

a  garment  for  his  wife,  if  he  is  up-to-date,  he  goes  to 
Sarahcuse;  and  if  he  is  a  back  number  he  goes  to 
Sam's  competitors!  —  what's  the  name,  now?  — 
Van  Buskirk  &  Patterson.  Yes,  Mawruss,  back 
numbers  always  buys  from  back  numbers." 

"Why  don't  we  sell  that  Van  Buster  concern 
our  line,  Abe?" 

"A  fine  chance  I  got  it  with  them  people,  Maw 
russ  1"  Abe  exclaimed.  "They  buy  their  whole 
stock  from  a  jobber  in  Buffalo  and  they  got  an  idee 
that  Russian  blouses  is  the  latest  up-to-the-minute 
effect  in  garments.  And  you  couldn't  blame  'em, 
Mawruss;  most  of  the  women  up  in  Cyprus  thinks 
that  way  too." 

"That  ain't  here  nor  there,  Abe,"  Morris 
interrupted.  "Sam  Green  is  one  of  them  fellers 
which  he  is  slow  pay  if  he  would  be  worth  a  million 
even.  He's  got  the  habit  Abe.  Look  what  he 
writes  us  now." 

He  handed  Abe  a  letter  which  read  as  follows : 

SAMUEL  GREEN 

DRYGOODS  AND  NOTIONS 

THE  K.  &  M.  SYLPHSHAPE  CORSET 

CYPRUS,  NEW  YORK,  April  i,  1910 

GENTS:  Your  favour  of  the  thirtieth  inst.  rec'd  and  contents 
noted;  and  in  reply  would  say  you  should  be  so  kind  and  wait 
a  couple  days,  and  I  will  send  you  a  check  sure  —  on  an  ac 
count  I  got  sickness  in  the  family  and  oblige 

Yours  truly,        S.  GREEN. 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  151 

"Well,  Mawruss,"  Abe  commented,  mindful  of  a 
recent  obstinate  lumbago,  "might  the  feller  did  got 
sickness  in  his  family  maybe." 

"  Schmooes,  Abe!"  Morris  cried  impatiently. 
"Every  season  that  feller's  got  another  excuse. 
Last  fall  his  wife  goes  to  work  and  has  an  operation. 
A  year  ago  he  is  got  his  uncle  in  the  hospital.  The 
winter  before  that  he  is  got  funeral  expenses  on  ac 
count  his  mother  died  on  him;  and  so  it  goes,  Abe. 
That  feller  would  a  damsite  sooner  kill  off  his  whole 
family,  y 'understand,  than  pay  a  bill  to  the  day  it  is 
due." 

"All  right,"  Abe  said;  "then  we  wouldn't  sell  him 
no  more  —  that's  all." 

Morris    shrugged. 

"That's  all!"  he  repeated.  "A  concern  don't 
pay  strictly  to  the  day;  so  we  couldn't  sell  'em  no 
more,  and  that's  all,  sagt  er!  For  a  feller  which  he 's 
losing  customers  right  and  left  to  a  back  number  like 
Max  Kirschner,  Abe,  you  are  talking  pretty  inde 
pendent." 

"Say,  lookyhere,  Mawruss,"  Abe  exploded;  "I 
just  told  it  you  Max  Kirschner  only  gets  that  order 
from  Henry  Feigenbaum  because  he  takes  pity  on 
him." 

"What  d'ye  mean,  pity?"  Morris  retorted.  "I 
seen  Max  Kirschner  in  the  subway  this  morning  and 
he  looks  like  he  needs  pity,  Abe.  He 's  got  diamonds 
stuck  on  him  like  a  pawnbroker's  window." 


i52  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

"That's  all  right,  Mawruss,"  Abe  continued. 
"Some  drummers  is  got  diamonds  and  some  is  got 
bank  accounts,  but  there's  mighty  few  got  both, 
Mawruss;  and  Max  Kirschner  ain't  one  of  'em. 
One  thing  you  got  to  remember,  Mawruss  —  Max 
is  an  old  man." 

"What  are  you  talking  nonsense!  An  old  man!" 
Morris  exclaimed.  "Max  is  just  turned  sixty." 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Abe  commented,  "and  for  a 
drummer,  that's  awful  old,  Mawruss.  A  feller 
which  he  spends  six  months  out  of  the  year  in  trains 
and  hotels,  Mawruss,  is  got  to  be  mighty  particular 
about  what  he  eats.  I  stopped  in  one  hotel  together 
with  Max  schon  many  times  already,  and  at  dinner 
I  am  always  eating  steaks  and  oncet  in  a  while  eggs 
maybe;  but  Max  goes  for  them  French  names  every 
time.  Many  a  night  I  watched  Max  in  a  hotel  lobby 
and  you  could  see  by  his  face  that  his  stomach  is 
boiling." 

"Never  mind,  Abe;  I  could  stand  a  little  indiges 
tion,  too,  Abe,  if  I  would  be  getting  the  orders  Max 
is  getting  it." 

"That's  a  thing  of  the  past,  Mawruss,"  Abe  re 
plied.  "Business  falls  off  something  terrible  with 
him,  Mawruss;  and  the  first  thing  you  know,  Maw 
russ,  Klinger  &  Klein  gets  rid  of  him  and  them  dia 
monds  would  got  to  come  in  handy  before  he  finds 
another  job." 

"  Yowl     Klinger  &  Klein  would  get  rid  of  him!" 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  153 

Morris  cried  skeptically.  "Max  Kirschner  ain't 
no  ordinary  drummer,  Abe.  There's  a  feller  which 
he  was  born  and  raised  on  this  side.  He's  a  gentle 
man,  Abe,  and  them  boys  respects  him.  Besides, 
Abe,  he  practically  started  them  two  green 
horns  in  business.  Twenty  years  ago,  when  them 
boys  was  new  beginners,  Kirschner  brings  'em  a  good 
trade,  y 'understand;  and  not  only  that,  Abe,  if  it 
wouldn't  be  for  him  them  fellers  wouldn't  never 
lasted  six  months.  The  first  season  they  turned  out 
a  lot  of  stickers,  and  when  they  got  short  Max  goes 
himself  to  old  man  Baum  and  gets  him  to  lend  them 
boys  a  thousand  dollars.  People  don't  forget  such 
things  in  a  hurry,  Abe." 

"Don't  they,  Mawruss?"  Abe  rejoined.  "Well, 
maybe  they  do  and  maybe  they  don't,  Mawruss; 
but  twenty  years  is  a  long  time  to  remember  things, 
Mawruss,  and  when  a  feller  draws  big  wages  like 
Max  Kirschner  he's  got  to  turn  in  the  orders,  Maw 
russ  —  otherwise  past  favours  is  nix." 

Morris  nodded. 

"That's  no  lie  neither,  Abe,"  he  said,  rising  to  his 
feet;  "and  we  should  right  away  send  Sam  Green  a 
letter  either  he  should  mail  us  a  check  or  we  would 
put  his  account  into  a  collection  agency.  The 
feller  goes  too  far,  Abe." 

It  was  precisely  a  week  later  that  Max  Kirschner 's 
relations  with  the  firm  of  Klinger  &  Klein  finally 
reached  their  climax. 


154  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Yes,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said  as  he  entered  the  show 
room  after  a  brief  visit  to  the  barber-shop  that  morn 
ing  —  "what  did  I  told  you?" 

"You  didn't  told  me  nothing,  Abe,"  Morris  re 
torted;  "and,  besides,  it  was  my  idee  that  we  wrote 
him  a  rotten  letter,  otherwise  we  would  wait  for 
another  week  or  ten  days  for  our  check.  As  it  is, 
Abe,  he  deducts  four  dollars  on  us  for  a  damage  on 
account  of  bum  packing.  He  is  not  only  a  crook, 
Abe,  but  a  liar  also." 

"Four  dollars  wouldn't  break  us,  Mawruss,'' 
Abe  rejoined,  "and  we  could  easy  make  it  up 
on  the  next  bill  he  buys  from  us.  But  I  wasn't 
talking  about  Sam  Green  at  all.  I  mean  Max 
Kirschner." 

"I  much  bother  my  head  about  Kirschner!" 
Morris  said.  "Let  Klinger  &  Klein  worry  about 
him." 

Abe  grunted  as  he  removed  his  hat  and  coat. 

"You'd  wait  an  awful  long  time  for  Klinger  & 
Klein  to  worry  about  him,  Mawruss,"  he  said.  "  Be 
cause  them  fellers  got  such  hearts  which  Gott  soil 
huten  their  wives  would  die  together  with  their 
children  in  one  day  yet  —  I  am  only  saying,  y 'under 
stand —  them  two  suckers  wouldn't  worry  neither. 
Saturday  night  they  fired  Max  Kirschner  like  a  dawg, 
Mawruss.  And  why?  Because  a  week  ago  Max 
eats  some  stuss  in  Bridgetown,  y 'understand,  which 
he  is  sick  in  bed  for  three  days.  And  while  he  is 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  155 

laid  up  yet  Sammet  Brothers  cops  out  a  thousand- 
dollar  order  on  him." 

"  Ai  gewoldt!"  Morris  cried,  with  ready  sympathy. 
"You  don't  tell  me?" 

"And  now  that  poor  feller  walks  the  streets  look 
ing  for  a  job;  and  a  fine  show  he's  got  it,  an  old  man 
like  him." 

" Don 't  say  that  again,  Abe,"  Morris  said.  "You 
Jonah  the  feller  that  way.  Somebody  hears  you 
saying  Max  is  an  old  man  and  the  first  thing  you 
know,  Abe,  they  believe  he  is  old.  I  told  you  before 
Max  is  only  sixty;  and  when  my  grossvater  selig  was 
sixty  he  gets  married  for  the  third  time  yet." 

"Sure  I  know,  Mawruss,"  Abe  retorted.  "Some 
fellers  gets  married  for  a  wife  and  some  for  a  nurse, 
Mawruss.  Any  cripple  could  get  married,  y 'under 
stand;  but  a  feller  must  got  to  have  his  health  to 
sell  goods." 

He  seized  the  current  issue  of  the  Daily  Cloak  and 
Suit  Record,  and  as  he  sat  down  to  examine  it  he 
heaved  a  sigh  which  merged  into  an  agonized  groan. 

"Oo-ee!"  he  exclaimed;  "that  lumbago  still  gets 
me  in  the  back." 

"You  see,  Abe,"  Morris  commented  maliciously, 
"you  ain't  so  young  yourself.  From  forty-eight 
to  sixty  ain't  a  thousand  years  neither,  Abe." 

Abe  scowled  and  then  his  face  lightened  up  in  the 
conception  of  a  happy  idea. 

"I  give  you  right  about  that,  Mawruss."  he  said: 


156  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"but  with  me  it's  different,  Mawruss.  If  I  get  so 
I  couldn't  go  out  on  the  road,  y 'understand,  we 
could  always  hire  some  one  to  go  for  us." 

"Could  we?"  Morris  grumbled. 

"Sure,"  Abe  went  on;  "and  even  to-day  yet, 
while  I  am  making  Denver  and  the  coast  towns, 
it  wouldn't  harm  us  we  should  get  a  feller  which 
is  acquainted  with  the  trade  up  the  state  and  in 
Pennsylvania  and  Ohio." 

"Wouldn't  it?"  Morris  croaked. 

"We  are  losing  every  day  business,  Mawruss, 
because  I  got  such  a  big  territory  to  cover,"  Abe 
said.  "A  feller  in  a  small  town  wants  his  fall  goods 
early  just  so  much  as  one  of  them  big  concerns  in 
Denver  oder  Seattle;  and  if  I  don't  show  up  in  time 
they  place  their  orders  with  some  one  else.  Whereas, 
Mawruss,  if  we  would  wait  a  couple  of  weeks,  we 
would  say  for  instance,  until  he  finds  out  that  every 
one  ain't  paying  fancy  salaries  like  Klinger  &  Klein, 
y 'understand,  for  a  couple  thousand  dollars  a  year, 
Mawruss,  we  could  get  Max  Kirschner  and " 

"Max  Kirschner?"  Morris  yelled.  "What  d'ye 
mean,  Max  Kirschner?" 

"Yes,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said,  "we  could  get  Max 
Kirschner;  and,  even  if  he  would  be  a  little  kranklich 
oncet  in  a  while,  sometimes  maybe  he  would  be 
worth  to  us  two  thousand  a  year  anyhow." 

"Two  thousand  a  year!"  Morris  bellowed. 
"What  the  devil  you  are  talking  nonsense,  Abe? 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  157 

We  should  give  two  thousand  a  year  to  a  cripple 
like  Kirschner!  What  do  you  think  you  are  running 
here  anyhow  —  a  cloak-and-suit  business  or  a  home 
for  the  aged?  If  you  want  to  give  to  charity  do  it 
with  your  money,  not  mine." 

For  the  remainder  of  the  forenoon  Morris  Perl- 
mutter  moved  about  the  showroom  with  his  face 
distorted  in  so  gloomy  a  scowl  that  to  Abe  it  seemed 
as  though  a  fog  enveloped  his  partner,  through  which 
there  darted,  like  flashes  of  heat  lightning,  exclama 
tions  of  "  Schnorrer!  Cripple  1  With  my  money 
yet!"  and  "Crust  that  feller  got  it!"  At  length 
he  put  on  his  hat  and  went  out  to  lunch,  while  Abe 
gazed  after  him  in  mute  disgust. 

"When  some  people  talks  charity,"  he  grumbled, 
"you  got  to  reckon  a  hundred  per  cent,  discount  for 
cash." 

"You  see,  Abe,"  Morris  cried  as  he  came  in  from 
lunch,  "how  easy  it  is  to  misjudge  people.  I  just 
seen  Sol  Klinger  over  to  Hammersmith's  and  he 
tells  me  that  in  six  weeks  yet  Max  Kirschner  falls 
down  on  three  orders.  Four  thousand  dollars  that 
sucker,  Leon  Sammet,  cops  out  on  'em;  and  Sol 
couldn't  help  himself,  Abe.  Either  they  got  to  fire 
Max  oder  they  got  to  go  out  of  business." 

Abe  nodded  slowly.  His  face  possessed  an  unus 
ual  pallor  and  he  clenched  an  unlighted  cigar  be 
tween  his  teeth. 


158  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"What  is  it?"  Morris  asked.  "Don't  you  feel 
good?" 

"I  am  feeling  fine,  Mawruss,"  he  replied  huskily. 
"I  could  blow  myself  to  a  bottle  tchampanyer  wine 
yet,  I  feel  so  good.  I  am  enjoying  myself,  Mawruss, 
on  account  Moe  Griesman  from  Sarahcuse  was  just 
in  here,  which  he  tells  me  his  nephew,  Mozart 
Rabiner,  goes  to  work  for  Klinger  &  Klein  as  a 
drummer  and  we  should  be  so  good  and  cancel  the 
order  which  he  gives  us  yesterday,  as  blood  is  redder 
as  water;  and  what  the  devil  could  we  do  about  it 
anyway?" 

Morris's  jaw  dropped  and  he  sat  down  heavily 
in  the  nearest  chair. 

"One  thing  I'm  glad,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said  as  he 
put  on  his  hat:  "I'm  glad,  if  we  got  to  lose  Moe 
Griesman 's  trade,  Mawruss,  that  he  is  going  to  give 
it  to  a  feller  like  Sol  Klinger,  which  he  is  such  a  good 
friend  to  you,  Mawruss,  and  got  such  a  big  heart." 

He  jammed  his  hat  on  his  ears  and  started  out. 

"Where  are  you  going,  Abe?"  Morris  asked. 

"I'm  going  over  to  Hammersmith's,  Mawruss," 
he  replied,  "to  get  a  bite  to  eat;  and  I  hope  to  see 
Sol  Klinger  there,  Mawruss,  as  I  would  like  to  con 
gratulate  him,  Mawruss,  with  a  pressing-iron." 

Morris 's  face  settled  once  more  into  a  deep  frown 
as  the  elevator  door  closed  behind  his  partner. 

"Always  with  his  mouth  he  is  making  somebody 
a  blue  eye,"  he  muttered  as  he  turned  to  sorting 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  159 

over  the  sample  line  against  Abe's  impending  trip 
to  the  small  towns  up  the  state.  He  had  picked 
out  four  cheap,  showy  garments  when  the  elevator 
door  clanged  again  and  a  visitor  entered,  bearing  a 
brown-paper  parcel. 

"Well,  Mawruss,"  he  said,  "what's  the  good 
word?" 

The  newcomer's  cheery  greeting  was  strangely 
at  variance  with  his  manner,  which  was  as  diffident 
as  that  of  a  village  dog  on  the  Fourth  of  July.  As 
he  advanced  toward  the  showroom  he  exhaled  the 
odour  of  mothballs,  characteristic  of  an  old  stock  of 
cloaks  and  suits,  so  that  before  he  looked  up  Morris 
was  able  to  identify  his  visitor. 

"Hello,  Sam!"  he  said.  "When  did  you  get 
in?" 

"Twelve  o'clock,"  Sam  replied.  "I  would  of 
got  in  sooner,  but  a  crook  of  a  scalper  in  Sarahcuse 
sells  me  a  ticket  which  it  is  punched  out  as  far  as 
Canandaigua;  and  if  it  wouldn't  be  I  paid  four  dol 
lars  extra  I  come  pretty  near  getting  kicked  off  the 
train." 

"You  ain't  nothing  out,  Sam,"  Morris  said,  "be 
cause  that's  just  the  amount  you  are  doing  me  for 
on  our  last  bill." 

"  Doing  you  for ! "  Sam  cried.  "  What  d  'ye  mean, 
doing  you  for?  One  garment  was  damaged  in  the 
packing  which  I  deducted  the  four  dollars;  and  if 
you  wouldn't  believe  me  here  it  is  now." 


160  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

He  unwrapped  the  brown-paper  parcel  and  dis 
closed  a  crumpled  article  of  women's  apparel,  which 
Morris  shook  out  and  examined  critically. 

"In  the  first  place,  Sam,"  he  commented,  "the 
garment  has  been  worn." 

"What  are  you  talking  nonsense  —  worn?"  Sam 
protested.  "Once  only  my  Leah  puts  it  on  to  see 
the  damage.  There  it  is." 

Sam  pointed  with  his  forefinger  and  Morris  looked 
at  the  spot  indicated. 

"Well,  how  could  that  be  damaged  in  packing, 
Sam?"  Morris  asked  indignantly.  "That's  a  stain 
from  lockshen  soup." 

"My  wife  must  got  to  eat  like  any  other  woman!" 
Sam  exclaimed  indignantly;  "and  besides,  Mawruss, 
the  stain  ain't  all  soup,  y 'understand  —  some  of  it 
gets  wet  in  the  packing-case." 

"Well,  I  wouldn't  bother  my  head  about  it  no 
more,"  Morris  retorted.  "I  deposited  your  check 
just  now  and  we  are  lucky,  if  you  would  deduct  four 
dollars,  that  we  got  our  money  at  all." 

"Maybe  you  are  and  maybe  you  ain't,  Mawruss," 
Sam  commented.  "That's  what  I  come  down  to  see 
you  about." 

"What  d'ye  mean?"  Morris  cried. 

"  I  mean,"  Sam  said  in  husky  tones,  "  I  don 't  know 
whether  the  check  is  good  at  all.  When  I  mailed  it 
you  I  got  a  little  balance  at  my  bank,  but  yesterday 
afternoon  the  president  sends  for  me  and  shuts  down 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  161 

on  my  accommodation;  and  maybe  —  I  don't  know 
whether  he  did  oder  not,  y 'understand  —  he  takes 
my  balance  on  account." 

Morris  laid  down  the  garment  and  fixed  his  visi 
tor  with  an  angry  glare. 

"So!"  he  exploded;  "you  are  going  to  fail  on  us?" 

Sam  disclaimed  it  indignantly. 

"What  d'ye  think  I  am?"  he  demanded  — "a 
crook?  And  besides,  I  ain't  got  nothing  to  fail  with." 

Morris  drew  forward  a  chair.  Sam  sat  down; 
and  leaning  back  he  nursed  his  cheek  with  his  hand 
in  an  attitude  of  utter  dejection. 

"Well,  what  are  you  going  to  do?"  Morris  asked. 

"That's  what  I  come  down  here  to  find  out," 
Sam  replied. 

Then  ensued  a  silence  of  several  minutes  during 
which  Morris  gazed  attentively  at  his  customer. 

"The  fact  is,  Sam,"  he  said  at  last,  "you  ain't 
got  no  head." 

Sam  nodded  sadly. 

"You're  a  fool,  Sam,"  Morris  went  on  in  kindly 
accents;  "and  no  matter  how  hard  a  fool  would  work 
he  is  a  poor  man  all  his  life." 

Sam  deemed  it  hardly  worth  while  to  acquiesce 
in  this  statement,  but  he  indorsed  it  unconsciously 
with  a  large  tear,  which  stole  out  of  the  corner  of  his 
eye  and  worked  a  clean  groove  down  one  travel- 
stained  cheek. 

"Have  a  smoke,  Sam,"  Morris  added  hastily  as  he 


i62  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

thrust  a  cigar  towardhis  late  customer.  "Did  you 
got  your  lunch  yet?  No?  Come  on  out  with  me 
now  and  we  would  have  a  little  bite  to  eat." 

He  jumped  to  his  feet  and  seized  his  hat. 

"Nathan,"  he  bawled  to  the  shipping  clerk,  "tell 
Mr.  Potash  I  am  going  out  with  a  customer  and  I  '11 
be  back  when  I  am  here." 

Max  Kirschner  had  reached  the  age  of  sixty  with 
out  making  a  single  enemy  save  his  stomach,  which 
at  length  ungratefully  rejected  all  the  rich  favours 
that  Max  had  bestowed  on  it  so  long  and  so 
generously.  Indeed,  he  was  reduced  to  a  diet  of 
crackers  and  milk  when  Abe  encountered  him  in 
Hammersmith's  restaurant  that  September  morning. 

"Hello,  Max!"  Abe  cried.  "When  did  you  get 
back?  I  thought  you  was  in  one  of  them  —  now 


sanatoriums." 


"A  sanatorium  is  no  place  for  a  drummer  to  find 
a  job,  Abe,"  Max  replied. 

"A  good  salesman  like  you  could  find  a  job 
anywhere  without  much  trouble,  Max,"  Abe  said 
cheerfully. 

"That's  what  everybody  says,  Abe;  meantime 
I'm  loafing." 

"It  wouldn't  be  for  long,  Max,"  Abe  rejoined  as 
he  cast  a  hungry  eye  over  Hammersmith's  bill  of 
fare.  " How's  that  fillet  de  who's  this,  with  aspara- 
grass  tips  and  mushrooms?" 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  163 

For  a  brief  moment  Max's  eye  gleamed  and  then 
grew  dull  again. 

"It's  fine  to  put  the  stomach  out  of  business, 
Abe,"  Max  said.  "Take  the  tip  from  one  who  has 
lost  sixty  pounds,  ten  customers,  and  a  good  job  all 
in  six  weeks  —  and  order  poached  eggs  on  toast." 

Abe  compromised  on  boiled  beef  with  horseradish 
sauce;  and  when  he  was  well  into  the  noisy  consump 
tion  of  that  simple  dish  he  broached  the  subject  of 
Max's  future  plans. 

"When  d'ye  think  you'll  go  to  work  again,  Max?'* 
he  asked. 

Max  shrugged  expressively. 

"I'm  not  a  prophet,  Abe;  I'm  a  salesman,"  he 
said. 

"Well,  there  ain't  no  particular  hurry,  Max.  It 
ain't  the  same  like  you  would  got  a  family  to  look 
out  for." 

"I've  been  a  drummer  all  my  life,  Abe,"  Max  de 
clared,  "and  a  drummer  has  no  right  to  be  married. 
When  I  was  a  kid  I  had  a  chance  to  go  into  the  store 
of  a  couple  of  yokels  upstate  in  the  town  where  I  was 
born  and  raised;  and  I  guess  if  I'd  done  so  I'd  been 
married  and  had  a  whole  family  of  children  by  now." 

"Maybe  you're  just  as  well  off,  Max,"  Abe  said 
consolingly.  "Children  is  a  gamble  anyhow,  Max. 
The  boys  is  assets  and  the  girls  is  liabilities;  and  if 
you  got  a  large  family  of  girls  you're  practically 
bankrupt,  no  matter  how  good  business  would  be.'1 


1 64  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Don't  you  believe  it,  Abe,"  Max  said.  "Those 
two  yokels  both  had  big  families  and  they  didn't 
do  such  a  big  business  either.  But  they  managed 
to  make  a  good  living,  and  last  week  I  hear  they  sold 
out  to  some  city  dry  goods  man  for  forty  thousand 
dollars." 

Abe  paused  with  a  loaded  knife  in  midair. 

"Forty  thousand  dollars  between  two  ain't  much, 
Max,"  he  said. 

"It's  more  than  I've  got,  anyhow,"  Max  rejoined 
as  he  rose  to  his  feet. 

"You  got  lots  of  time  to  make  money,  Max," 
Abe  concluded.  "Come  round  and  see  us  when  you 
get  time,  won't  you?" 

Max  nodded;  and  as  he  walked  down  the  street 
to  make  a  further  canvass  of  the  garment  trade  he 
passed  the  broad  windows  of  the  dairy  lunchroom, 
where  Morris  was  regaling  Sam  Green  with  a 
popular-price  meal. 

"Yes,  Sam,"  Morris  said  as  he  caught  sight  of 
Max  Kirschner's  dejected  figure,  "you're  lucky 
when  you  consider  some  people.  You  are  still  a 
young  man  and  it  ain't  too  late  for  you  to  start  in 
as  a  new  beginner  somewhere.  A  young  man  could 
always  make  a  living  anyhow." 

"  Sure,"  Sam  agreed,  "  but  why  should  I  start  in  as 
a  new  beginner,  Mawruss?  I  already  got  an  estab 
lished  business,  y 'understand;  and  if  I  could  get  a 
feller  with  a  headpiece,  Mawruss  —  never  mind  he 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  165 

ain't  got  so  much  money  —  with  a  couple  thousand 
dollars,  we  could  run  that  feller  from  Sarahcuse  out 
of  town." 

"What  feller  from  Sarahcuse?"  Morris  asked. 

"Ain't  I  told  you?"  Sam  continued.  "I  thought 
I  says  that  the  reason  the  bank  shuts  down  on  me  is 
a  feller  from  Sarahcuse  buys  out  them  two  suckers, 
Van  Buskirk  and  Patterson,  and  he's  going  to  oper 
ate  the  store  as  a  branch  house." 

Morris  nodded  his  head  slowly. 

"So,  Sam,"  he  said,  "you  are  up  against  one  of 
them  sharks  from  Sarahcuse?  I'm  afraid  you  got 
a  dead  proposition  in  that  store  of  yours." 

Two  cups  of  coffee  had  revived  Sam  Green's 
ambition,  however,  and  he  laughed  aloud. 

"You  don't  understand  them  people  up  in  Cy 
prus,  Mawruss,"  he  said.  "Strangers  they  don't 
like  at  all;  and  even  me,  though  I  lived  in  that  town 
ten  years,  most  of  'em  wouldn't  buy  goods  off  of  me 
because  Van  Buskirk  and  Patterson  is  born  and  raised 
in  that  town  and  they  dealt  with  'em  ever  since  they 
was  boys  together.  So  you  see  I  got  ten  years'  start 
of  that  feller  from  Sarahcuse,  Mawruss.  If  I  could 
get  some  feller  which  he  knows  the  garment  business 
to  go  as  partners  together  with  me,  and  to  put  a 
little  money  into  the  store,  we  could  yet  do  a  good 
business  there." 

"How  much  money  would  you  got  to  have?" 
Morris  asked. 


166  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

"Two  thousand  dollars,  anyhow,"  Sam  replied. 

Morris  tapped  the  table  with  his  right  index  fin 
ger  and  frowned  reflectively. 

"The  necktie  pin  alone  must  be  worth  a  thousand 
dollars,"  he  murmured  almost  to  himself,  "and  two 
rings  he  got  it  which  I  know  about  must  stand  him 
in  anyhow  a  thousand  dollars  more." 

He  thrust  back  his  chair  and  rose  to  his  feet. 

"All  right,  Sam,"  he  said  aloud.  "You  got  a 
little  egg  on  your  chin.  Wipe  it  off  and  we'll  go 
back  to  the  store.  I  got  an  idee." 

"On  second  thought,  Sam,"  Morris  said  as  they 
approached  Potash  &  Perlmutter's  place  of  business, 
"I  wouldn't  go  up  with  me  if  I  was  you  on  account 
I  don't  want  to  say  nothing  to  my  partner  just  yet 
a  while.  Where  are  you  staying,  Sam?" 

"I  got  a  room  at  a  hotel  over  on  Third  Avenue," 
Sam  replied. 

"Third  Avenue!"  Morris  exclaimed.  "That's 
a  Nachbarschaft  for  a  business  man!" 

He  handed  Sam  a  five-dollar  bill. 

"Go  and  get  yourself  a  room  over  at  the  Prince 
Clarence,"  Morris  said.  "I'll  be  over  there  presently." 

Nathan,  the  shipping  clerk,  was  alone  in  the 
showroom  when  Morris  entered. 

"Ain't  my  partner  come  back  yet,  Nathan?"  he 
demanded. 

Nathan  shook  his  head. 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  167 

"Then  tell  him  when  he  does  come  back  that  I've 
went  up  to  the  Prince  Clarence  to  see  a  customer," 
Morris  continued;  "and  if  he  asks  what  name  tell 
him  it's  a  new  concern  just  starting." 

Five  minutes  later  he  visited  the  business  prem 
ises  of  Kleiman  &  Elenbogen,  impelled  thereto  by 
a  process  of  reasoning  which  involved  the  following 
points:  Klinger  &  Klein  manufactured  a  medium- 
price  line  and  so  did  Kleiman  &  Elenbogen.  Klinger 
&  Klein's  leader  was  The  Girl  in  the  Airship  Gown, 
a  title  suggested  by  the  syndicate's  popular  musical 
comedy  of  that  name,  while  Kleiman  &  Elenbogen 
advertised  their  "strongest"  garment  as  The  Girl 
in  the  Motor-boat,  out  of  compliment,  of  course,  to 
the  equally  popular  musical  comedy  recently  pro 
duced  by  an  antisyndicate  manager.  Both  con 
cerns  catered  to  the  same  class  of  trade,  and  when 
either  of  the  partners  of  Klinger  &  Klein  referred  in 
conversation  to  a  member  of  the  firm  of  Kleiman 
&  Elenbogen,  or  vice  versa,  "sucker"  was  the  mild 
est  epithet  employed. 

Hence  Morris  Perlmutter  argued  that  Max  Kirch- 
ner  would  resort  to  Kleiman  &  Elenbogen 's  loft 
for  comfort  and  advice;  and  as  he  stepped  out  of  the 
elevator  his  surmise  was  confirmed  by  a  nimbus 
emanating  from  the  necktie  of  a  person  seated  at  the 
far  end  of  the  showroom. 

"Hello,  Max!"  Morris  cried;  "who'd  thought  of 
seeing  you  here!" 


1 68  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Max  rose  to  his  feet  and  extended  his  right  hand 
in  greeting,  whereat  Morris  noted  that  the  four-carat 
diamond  still  sparkled  on  Max's  finger. 

"I  just  left  your  partner  over  at  Hammersmith's, 
Morris,"  Max  said. 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Morris  rejoined;  "that  feller 
makes  a  god  out  of  his  stomach,  Max;  but  that  ain't 
here  nor  there.  Did  you  got  something  to  do  yet, 
Max?" 

"I've  got  a  whole  lot  to  do  trying  to  find  a  job, 
Morris,  if  that's  what  you  mean,"  Max  replied. 

Morris  glanced  around  the  showroom,  but  both 
Kleiman  and  Elenbogen  were  absent. 

"Where  are  they?"  Morris  asked. 

"Out  to  lunch,  I  guess,"  Max  replied. 

"Good!"  Morris  exclaimed.  "Them  suckers 
would  like  to  know  everybody's  business.  You 
got  a  few  minutes'  time,  Max?" 

"Nothing  but  time,"  Max  replied  sadly. 

"Then  come  uptown  a  few  blocks  with  me," 
Morris  said.  "I  got  a  proposition  to  make  you." 

Max  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  put  on  his  hat. 

"Yes,  Max,"  Morris  continued  as  they  walked 
toward  the  Prince  Clarence  Hotel,  "I  got  a  proposi 
tion  to  make  to  you,  but  first  I  would  like  to  ask 
you  something  a  question." 

"Fire  away,"  Max  said. 

"What  did  you  done  with  that  other  diamond  ring 
which  you  used  to  wear  —  the  big  one?" 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  169 

"I  have  it  home,"  Max  replied.  "What  d'ye 
want  to  know  for?" 

"I  want  to  lend  you  some  money  on  it,"  Morris 
went  on  calmly;  "also  that  pin  which  you  got  it 
and  that  there  ring.  I  want  to  lend  you  three 
thousand  dollars  on  'em." 

"Three  thousand  dollars!"  Max  exclaimed. 
"Why,  the  whole  outfit  isn't  worth  two!" 

"What  do  I  care?"  Morris  rejoined.  "It's 
only  a  loan  and  I  bet  yer  you  would  quick  pay 
me  back." 

Max  paused  on  the  sidewalk  and  stared.  "What's 
the  matter,  Morris?"  he  cried.  "Are  you  sick?" 

"Must  a  feller  got  to  be  sick  to  want  to  help  you 
out,  Max?"  Morris  said.  "And  anyhow,  Max,  it's 
as  much  a  favour  to  us  as  it  is  to  you." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  Prince  Clarence 
Hotel  and  Morris  led  the  way  to  the  cafe. 

"Say,  lookyhere,  Max,  the  whole  thing  is  this," 
he  said  after  they  were  seated:  "I'm  going  to 
lend  you  three  thousand  dollars  to  go  into  a  business 
with  a  feller  which  he  got  a  store  in  a  small  town 
upstate,  and  you're  going  to  do  it." 

Max  shook  his  head. 

"No;  I  ain't,"  he  answered,  "I'm  too  old  a  dog 
to  learn  new  tricks." 

"If  you  sell  goods  wholesale  you  could  sell  'em 
retail,"  Morris  declared.  "So,  if  you  would  listen 
to  me  I'll  tell  you  what  the  proposition  is." 


170  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Forthwith  Morris  unfolded  to  Max  the  history 
of  Sam  Green's  mercantile  establishment. 

"And  now,  after  all  them  years,  Max,"  he  con 
cluded,  "that  feller  gets  practically  run  out  of  town 
because  his  bank  shuts  down  on  him." 

"What's  the  name  of  the  place?"  Max  asked. 

"The  name  of  the  place?"  Morris  repeated. 

"Yes,"  Max  said,  "the  name  of  the  town  where 
the  fellow  comes  from." 

Morris  scratched  his  head  for  a  minute. 

"I  should  remember  the  name  of  every  little  one- 
horse  town  where  we  got  customers!"  he  said. 
"The  name  of  the  place  don't  matter,  Max;  it's 
got  two  thousand  people  living  in  it  and  practically 
only  one  store,  because  the  way  Sam  Green  is  run 
ning  his  business  now  you  couldn't  call  it  a  store 
at  all." 

Max  rose  from  the  table. 

"I'll  tell  you  the  truth,  Morris,"  he  said;  "what's 
the  use  wasting  our  time?  The  proposition  ain't 
attractive.  I  was  born  and  raised  in  a  one-horse 
town  upstate;  and,  even  though  I  ain't  been  back 
for  twenty  years,  I  know  what  it's  like.  You'll 
have  to  excuse  me." 

"But,  Max "  Morris  commenced. 

"I  needn't  tell  you  that  I'm  more  than  grateful 
to  you,  Morris,"  Max  concluded;  "and  if  ever  I 
want  to  dispose  of  my  diamonds  you  shall  have 
first  chance." 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  171 

He  shook  Morris's  limp  and  unresisting  hand  and 
returned  at  once  to  the  showroom  of  Kleiman  & 
Elenbogen. 

"Any  one  come  for  me,  Miss  Cashman?"  he 
asked  the  bookkeeper,  who  was  busily  engaged  in 
the  preparation  of  the  firm's  monthly  statement. 

"Say,  lookyhere,  Kirschner,"  Louis  Kleiman 
called  from  his  office;  "leave  the  girl  alone,  can't 
you?  She's  got  enough  to  do  tending  to  our  bus 


iness." 


"I'm  only  asking  her  if  she  has  any  word  for  me," 
Max  replied. 

"I  don't  care  what  you  are  asking  her,"  Kleiman 
said  as  he  came  out  of  his  office  to  confront  Max. 
"You  are  acting  altogether  too  fresh  around  here, 
Kirschner.  Do  you  pay  rent  here  oder  what?" 

Max  made  no  reply. 

"And  furthermore,"  Kleiman  continued,  "we 
got  business  to  attend  to  here,  Kirschner,  and  we 
couldn't  afford  to  have  no  dead  ones  hanging 
around." 

For  a  brief  interval  he  scowled  at  Max,  who 
turned  on  his  heel  and  made  for  the  elevator  without 
another  word.  His  applications  for  employment 
during  the  past  few  days  had  met  with  polite  re 
fusals  coupled  with  cheerful  prophecies  of  his  early 
employment.  To  be  sure,  Max  had  taken  little 
stock  in  this  consoling  optimism,  but  it  had  all 
helped  to  keep  alive  his  spirits,  which  had  sunk 


1 72  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

again  to  their  lowest  ebb  at  Kleiman's  epithet, 
"dead  one." 

After  all,  he  was  a  dead  one,  he  reflected  as  he 
stumbled  along  the  sidewalk  toward  his  boarding 
house  on  Irving  Place.  A  man  of  sixty  safely  in 
trenched  in  his  own  business,  with  the  confidence 
his  wealth  inspires,  is  in  the  very  prime  of  life.  But 
Max,  with  his  health  impaired  and  his  employment 
taken  away  from  him,  felt  and  looked  a  decrepit  old 
man  as  he  tottered  upstairs  to  his  third-floor  room 
and  flung  himself  on  the  bed,  where  he  lay  for  more 
than  an  hour  staring  at  the  ceiling. 

During  that  interval  he  reviewed  his  career  from 
the  time  he  helped  his  father,  a  Prussian  refugee  of 
1848,  in  the  little  country  store  upstate.  Then 
£ame  his  father's  death,  followed  by  a  clerkship  in 
the  large  dry-goods  business  of  his  father's  competi 
tors.  After  this  he  had  moved  to  New  York;  and 
from  that  time  on  he  had  followed  the  calling  of  a 
travelling  salesman  with  varying  success,  until  at 
sixty  he  found  himself  out  of  health  and  employment, 
with  property  of  less  than  two  thousand  dollars  as 
a  reserve  fund. 

What  a  fool  he  had  been  not  to  accept  Perlmutter's 
offer!  Nevertheless  it  seemed  futile  for  a  man  of 
sixty  to  make  a  new  start  in  a  strange  town,  espe 
cially  since,  in  rural  communities,  business  goes  as 
much  by  favour  and  friendship  as  by  commercial 
enterprise.  Now,  had  he  been  offered  a  partner- 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  173 

ship  in  a  store  in  his  native  town,  where  it  would 
be  an  easy  matter  to  renew  old  acquaintance,  he 
might  have  viewed  the  proposition  differently. 

He  rose  from  the  bed  and  sat  down  in  an  arm 
chair,  while  his  mind  reverted  to  more  pleasant 
topics.  He  pictured  to  himself  his  father's  store 
underneath  what  the  townspeople  called  the  opera 
house.  He  saw  again  that  dingy  little  hall,  with 
its  small  proscenium  opening  guarded  by  a  frayed 
old  curtain,  and  he  smiled  as  he  remembered  the 
landscape  it  bore.  With  the  sophistication  of  his 
race  he  had  enjoyed  many  a  good  laugh  at  the  per 
formance  that  had  evoked  the  tears  of  his  fellow 
townsmen.  What  Rubes  they  were,  to  be  sure! 
And  yet,  what  good  fellows  the  boys  had  been!  He 
recalled  various  ones  by  name  and  found  himself 
wondering  how  they  looked  and  whether  they  were 
married  or  single.  Another  half  hour  of  like  musing 
and  suddenly  he  slapped  his  thigh. 

"By  jinks!"  he  said,  "I'll  do  it.  I  need  a  vaca 
tion  and  I'm  going  to  have  it  too." 

When  Morris  returned  to  his  place  of  business 
that  afternoon  he  had  packed  Sam  Green  off  to  his 
store  upstate  with  instructions  to  return  in  a  week, 
during  which  Morris  hoped  to  take  the  matter  up 
with  Abe.  As  for  his  hour-long  absence  from  his 
place  of  business,  Morris  had  provided  himself  with 
a  plausible  explanation  in  rebuttal  to  the  quiet, 
ironical  greeting  that  he  knew  would  await  him. 


174  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

His  program  was  a  little  upset,  however,  by  Abe's 
inquiry,  which  was  not  in  the  least  ironical. 

"  Loafer,  where  have  you  been  ? "     Abe  demanded. 

"What  d'ye  mean,  loafer?"  Morris  cried. 

"I  mean,  while  you  are  fooling  away  your  time, 

Moe  Griesman  comes  in  here  to  see  us  and  naturally 

he  don't  find  none  of  us  here;  so  he  goes  away  again. 

From  us  he  goes  straight  over  to  Sammet  Brothers 

—  and  that's  the  way  it  goes." 

"But,  Abe,"  Morris  protested,  "I  thought  you 
told  me  he  cancels  his  order  this  morning  and  buvs 
only  from  Klinger  &  Klein." 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Abe  said;  "but  I  suppose  he  finds 
out  he  couldn't  find  all  the  goods  he  wants  with  one 
concern  and  now  he  goes  over  to  Sammet  Brothers." 

"How  do  you  know  he  went  over  to  Sammet 
Brothers?"  Morris  asked. 

"A  question!  How  do  I  know  it?"  Abe  ex 
claimed.  "Ain't  he  left  a  memorandum  I  should 
ring  him  up  there?" 

"Well,  why  don't  you  ring  him  up  and  find  out 
what  he  wants?"  Morris  retorted. 

"What  do  I  care  what  he  wants,  Mawruss?" 
Abe  rejoined.  "Whatever  he  wants  he  don't  want 
it  now,  because  them  two  cut-throats  would  suck 
him  dry  of  orders.  Once  a  feller  gets  into  the  hands 
of  Sammet  Brothers  they  wouldn't  let  him  go  till 
he  bought  himself  blue  in  the  face." 

"Ring  him  up,  anyhow,"  Morris  insisted;  and  the 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  175 

next  moment  Abe  was  engaged  in  a  heated  alterca 
tion  with  "Central."  Finally  he  heard  Leon  Sam- 
met  at  the  other  end  of  the  wire. 

"Hello!"  he  yelled.  "I  want  to  speak  with  Mr. 
Griesman.  Never  mind  what  I  want  to  speak  with 
him  about.  That's  my  business.  I  ain't  the  fresh 
one  —  you  are  the  fresh  one.  You  are  asking  me 
something  which  you  ain't  got  no  right  to  ask  me  at 
all.  You  know  well  enough  who  it  is  talking." 

After  five  minutes'  further  conversation,  Leon 
relinquished  his  end  of  the  wire  to  Griesman  and 
immediately  thereafter  Abe's  voice  diminished  in 
harshness  till  it  became  fairly  flutelike  with  friend 
ship  and  amiability. 

"Oh,  hello,  Mr.  Griesman!"  he  said.  "Did  you 
want  to  talk  to  me?  Why,  no,  Mr.  Griesman,  he 
don't  owe  us  nothing.  He  paid  us  this  morning. 
Sure!  What  did  you  want  to  know  for?  Why 
should  we  sell  his  account,  Mr.  Griesman?  He's 
a  little  slow,  y 'understand,  but  he's  quite  good. 
That's  all  right.  Good-by." 

When  he  returned  to  the  showroom  his  face  wore 
a  puzzled  expression. 

"Well,  Abe,  what  did  he  want?"  Morris  asked. 

Abe  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  don't  know  what  he  is  up  to,  Mawruss,"  Abe 
said;  "but  he  tells  me  he  wants  to  buy  from  us  Sam 
Green's  account.  So  I  told  him  Sam  pays  us  this 
morning,  and  he  rings  off." 


1 76  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Why  should  Moe  Griesman  want  to  buy  from  us 
Sam  Green's  account?"  Morris  muttered  to  himself; 
and  then  a  wave  of  recollection  came  over  him. 
Obviously  it  was  Moe  Griesman  who  had  bought  out 
Sam's  competitors  and  this  caused  Sam's  bank  to 
shut  down  on  him.  Now  Moe  Griesman  was  at 
tempting  to  buy  up  Sam's  liabilities  and  close  him 
up,  so  that  there  might  be  no  competitor  to  Moe's 
new  business  in  Cyprus.  At  length  the  humour 
of  the  situation  appealed  to  Morris  and  he  grinned 
vacuously  at  his  partner. 

"Nu,"  Abe  growled;  "what  are  you  laughing  at?" 

"Nothing  much,  Abe,"  Morris  replied.     "I  was 

only  thinking  —  that's   all,  Abe.     I  was  thinking 

to  myself,  Abe,  what  a  joke  it  would  be,  supposing, 

for  instance,  Sam's  check  should  come  back  N.  G." 

When  Sam  Green  entered  the  smoker  of  the  seven- 
thirty  train  from  Syracuse  to  Cyprus,  the  following 
morning,  a  well-dressed  man  of  sixty  followed  him 
down  the  aisle  and  sat  down  in  the  same  seat  with 
him. 

"Have  a  cigar?"  the  stranger  said. 

"Much  obliged,"  Sam  replied  as  he  took  it.  "If 
it  is  just  the  same  to  you  I  would  smoke  it  after 
dinner." 

"Sure!"  the  stranger  rejoined,  handing  him  an 
other;  "smoke  that  one  after  dinner  and  smoke 
this  one  now." 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  177 

Sam  grinned  and  after  they  had  lit  up  he  ventured 
the  observation  that  it  was  fine  weather. 

" Aber  it  should  be  colder,"  he  concluded,  "for 
heavyweights." 

"Are  you  in  the  clothing  business?"  the  stranger 
asked. 

"I  got  a  sort  of  a  store,"  Sam  replied;  "clothing 
and  cloaks,  and  suits  also.  A  dry-goods  store  in 
Cyprus." 

"In  Cyprus?"  Sam's  seatmate  cried.  "You 
don't  tell  me?  I'm  going  down  to  Cyprus  too." 

"My  fall  buying  is  through,"  Sam  said. 

"I'm  not  selling  goods  this  trip,"  the  stranger 
replied.  "I'm  on  a  vacation." 

"A  vacation!"  Sam  murmured.  "In  Cyprus! 
That's  a  medeena  for  a  vacation." 

"There  are  worse  places  than  Cyprus,  my  friend," 
said  Sam's  new-found  acquaintance;  and  thereat 
began  a  conversation  that  lasted  until  the  train 
finally  drew  into  Cyprus. 

"Would  you  mind  telling  me  what  is  your  name, 
please?"  Sam  asked  as  they  prepared  to  leave  the  car. 

"Certainly,"  the  stranger  said,  handing  his  card 
to  Sam. 

"Kirschner!"  Sam  exclaimed,  looking  at  the  card. 
"Kirschner,  von  unsere  Leute?" 

"Sure!"  Max  Kirschner  replied. 

"Did  your  father  once  run  a  store  under  the  opera 
house  here?" 


178  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"That's  right." 

"And  after  he  died  the  widder  sells  out  to  a  man 
by  the  name  Marcus  Senft?" 

"The  same  one,"  Max  replied.  "Why  do  you 
ask?" 

"Because  I  bought  out  that  feller,  Marcus  Senft," 
Sam  replied,  "and  I  got  on  my  books  yet  debts 
which  your  mother  sold  to  Senft  for  twenty-five 
cents  on  the  dollar  —  and  he  sold  to  me  for  ten 


cents." 


"I'll  bet  I  know  who  owes  'em,  too,"  Max 
commented. 

"You  could  look  'em  over  if  you  want  to,"  Sam 
said  as  they  started  to  walk  down  the  hilly  lane  from 
the  depot  to  the  main  street. 

"I  will  after  I've  washed  up  at  the  hotel,"  Max 
answered. 

"Hotel?"  Sam  exclaimed.  "What  d'ye  mean, 
hotel?  You  ain't  going  to  no  hotel.  You're  com 
ing  home  with  me.  A  feller  von  unsere  Leute  should 
come  to  Cyprus  for  a  vacation  and  stay  at  a  hotel! 
An  idee!" 

He  linked  his  arm  in  Max's  and  together  they 
walked  to  Sam's  store. 

"We'll  take  a  look  in  here  first  before  we  go  up  to 
the  house,"  Sam  said  as  he  opened  the  door.  The 
next  moment  Sam  Green  was  clasped  to  the  ample 
bosom  of  Leah  Green,  who  glanced  inquiringly  at 
Max  Kirschner. 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  179 

"Mommer,"  Sam  announced,  "this  is  Mr.  Max 
Kirschner,  which  he  ought  to  be  like  an  old  friend 
on  account  he  was  born  and  raised  in  this  here  town 
and  his  father  run  this  very  store." 

Max  looked  around  him  at  the  shelves  and  show 
cases. 

"The  same  fixtures,"  he  muttered  absently. 

"He  is  only  in  town  for  a  couple  of  days,  mommer," 
Sam  said  hesitatingly,  "so  I  thought  we  could  easy 
fix  up  the  spare  room  —  ain't  it?" 

"Why,  sure!"  Mrs.  Green  replied  as  she  shook 
Max's  hand  warmly.  "Is  the  folks  all  well,  Mr. 
Kirschner?" 

Max  smiled  sadly. 

"You  can  judge  for  yourself,  Mrs.  Green,"  he  said, 
"because  I'm  all  the  folks  there  are." 

"Oh,  sure,"  Mrs.  Green  hastened  to  say.  "I 
remember  now;  you  never  got  married." 

"Why,  how  do  you  know  that?"     Sam  asked. 

Mrs.  Green  nodded  her  head  sideways  in  Sam's 
direction. 

"He  don't  never  hear  nothing,  Mr.  Kirschner," 
she  said.  "With  me  the  women  folks  schmooses  all 
the  time;  and  you  could  take  it  from  me,  Mr. 
Kirschner,  they  talk  a  whole  lot  more  about  what 
happens  forty  years  ago  as  what  happens  last  week 
already." 

Max  nodded  as  the  store  door  opened  and  a  woman 
of  uncertain  age  entered. 


i8o  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Good  morning,  Mis'  Green,"  the  newcomer  said, 
her  eyes  glued  on  Max  Kirschner.  "I  was  just 
passin'  by  on  my  way  to  the  depot  and  I  remem 
bered  that  I  needed  a  spool  of  thread." 

Mrs.  Green  passed  behind  the  counter  to  reach 
the  thread  case. 

"Going  to  Sarahcuse  to-day,  Mis'  Duree?"  she 
asked  casually. 

Mrs.  Duryea  blushed. 

"I'm  on  my  way  to  see  my  sister's  little  grand 
daughter,"  she  explained;  "she's  just  recovering 
from  whooping  cough." 

"  Would  that  be  your  sister  Libby  ? "  Max  inquired. 

Mrs.  Duryea  started  visibly. 

"I  don't  know  as  I "  she  began. 

"That's  so,"  Max  continued.  "Libby  moved 
to  Elmira.  It  must  be  Carrie.  She  married  Lem 
Peters,  didn't  she?" 

"Well,  of  all  things!"  Mrs.  Duryea  exclaimed. 
"Who  in  the  world  told  you  all  that?" 

"I  just  remembered  it,"  Max  said,  holding  out 
his  hand.  "How's  Tom?" 

Mrs.  Duryea  took  the  proffered  hand  gingerly. 

"He's  pretty  spry,"  she  said. 

"Tell  him  Max  Kirschner  was  asking  for  him," 
Max  replied. 

"You  ain't  Max  Kirschner?"  Mrs.  Duryea  cried. 

"Just  as  sure  as  you're  Hattie  Watson,"  Max 
said.  "How 're  all  the  children,  Hattie?" 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  181 

"AU  growed  up  and  flew  away,"  Mrs.  Duryea 
replied.  "What  are  you  doing  around  here?" 

Max's  eyes  twinkled  mischievously. 

"I'm  selling  goods  for  Mr.  Green  here,"  he  de 
clared.  "Let's  see,  Hattie.  Forty-two  bust,  I 
should  say." 

He  snatched  a  garment  from  a  rack  near  by. 

"Here's  a  coat,  Hattie,  that  would  stand  you  in 
forty  dollars  in  Syracuse,"  he  said.  "One  of  those 
big  dry-goods  stores  there  figures  on  a  coat  like  this: 
garment,  wholesale,  twenty  dollars;  running  a  big 
store  with  elevators,  electric  lights  and  all  modern 
improvements,  ten  dollars;  advertising,  five  dollars; 
profit,  five  dollars  —  total,  forty  dollars.  We  figure 
here:  cost  of  garment,  twenty  dollars;  store  expenses, 
fifty  cents;  profit,  four  dollars  and  fifty  cents;  total, 
twenty-five  dollars.  Put  it  on,  Hattie,  and  let's  see 
how  you  look  in  the  garment." 

"Well,  I  declare!"  Mrs.  Duryea  exclaimed  as 
she  allowed  herself  to  be  assisted  into  the  garment. 
"You  take  my  breath  away." 

Max 'stepped  back  to  survey  the  effect;  and  if  the 
admiration  expressed  in  his  face  was  simulated,  at 
least  the  friendliness  of  his  smile  was  not. 

"Now,  Hattie,  I  want  to  tell  you  something," 
he  declared:  "If  any  one  would  say  to  me  that  I 
went  to  school  with  you  I'd  think  they  had  a  bad 
memory.  I'd  tell  'em  it  was  your  mother  that  sat 
next  to  me  in  Miss  Johnson's  room  and  not  you." 


x82  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Mrs.  Duryea  fairly  beamed  as  she  strutted  up 
and  down  the  store. 

"Well,  Max,"  she  said  at  last,  "let  me  bring  my 
friend  Mis'  Williams  in  this  afternoon  and  we'll 
decide  on  it  then." 

"But  I  thought  you  were  going  to  Syracuse," 
Max  rejoined. 

"I  was,"  Mrs.  Duryea  said  as  she  started  to 
leave;  "but  I  ain't  now." 

The  news  of  Max  Kirschner's  return  spread 
through  Cyprus  like  a  brush  fire,  and  twenty  minutes 
after  Mrs.  Duryea  had  left  Sam  Green's  store  Max 
was  holding  a  levee  behind  the  old  counter.  By 
two  o'clock  he  had  greeted  over  fifty  old  friends  and 
at  least  twenty  of  them  had  made  purchases  in 
amounts  varying  from  five  to  thirty  dollars. 

"Assure  as  you 're  standing  there,  Mr.  Kirschner," 
Sam  declared,  "I  sold  more  goods  this  morning  as 
in  the  last  two  months." 

Max  grinned  delightedly.  His  face  was  flushed 
and  he  looked  at  least  ten  years  younger  as  he  patted 
Sam  on  the  shoulder. 

"Look  out  for  the  rush  this  afternoon,"  he  said. 
"If  we  only  had  a  better  assortment,  Green,  I  think 
we  could  keep  this  up  for  a  week  longer  and  after 
that  we  could  do  a  good,  steady  business." 

"We?"  Sam  exclaimed. 

Max  coloured  and  smiled  in  an  embarrassed  fashion. 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  183 

"Of  course  I  mean  you,"  he  said. 

"Why  'of  course'?"  Sam  asked;  and  Mrs. 
Green  nodded  vigorously.  "Why  not  we,  Mr. 
Kirschner?" 

"Well,  you  see,  I  haven't  sold  goods  at  retail  for 
so  long,"  Max  explained,  "that  I  really  don't  know 
how." 

Sam  turned  to  Mrs.  Green  with  a  quick  shrug. 

"Was  hast  du  gehort?"  he  cried.  "He  don't 
know  how!  If  I  wouldn't  know  how  to  sell  goods 
the  way  you  don't  know  how,  Mr.  Kirschner,  I 
would  quick  build  up  a  good  business  here.  Tell 
me,  Mr.  Kirschner,  how  much  longer  do  you  got  a 
vacation,  because  I'd  like  to  make  you  a  proposi 
tion.  You  could  stay  with  me  here  for  the  rest  of 
your  vacation  and  I  would  give  you  half  of  the 
profits  over  the  cost  price  of  every  garment  you  sell. 
How's  that?" 

"Very  generous,"  Max  said;  "but  you  don't 
know  what  you're  offering  me,  Green,  because  the 
vacation  might  last  for  several  years." 

" Several  years ! "  Sam  repeated.  "You  mean  you 
are  retired  from  business,  Mr.  Kirschner?" 

"Exactly,"  Max  answered;  "with  a  fortune  of 
two  diamond  rings,  a  diamond  pin,  and  eight  hun 
dred  and  sixty-five  dollars  cash." 

Sam  and  Mrs.  Green  stared  at  him  incredulously. 

"In  other  words,  Green,"  Max  concluded,  "I 
have  just  been  fired  out  of  a  job  as  travelling 


184  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

salesman,  which  I  held  for  twenty  years,  and  I  don't 
see  a  chance  of  getting  another  one." 

For  a  moment  Sam  and  his  wife  exchanged  glances. 

"Mr.  Kirschner,"  Sam  said,  "how  much  can  you 
get  for  them  diamonds?" 

"Fifteen  hundred  dollars,  I  guess,"  Max  replied. 

"Then  what  is  the  use  talking  nonsense,  Mr. 
Kirschner?"  Sam  cried  excitedly.  "Come  along 
with  me  over  to  the  Farmers'  National  Bank  and 
we'll  see  Mr.  Fuller;  and  if  he  would  renew  my  ac 
commodation  for  a  thousand  dollars  you  and  me 
would  go  as  partners  together  and  fertig." 

"Fuller!"  Max  cried.  "That  ain't  Wilbur  M. 
Fuller,  is  it?" 

"That's  the  one,"  Sam  declared. 

"Then  we'll  not  only  get  him  to  renew  the  accom 
modation,  Sam,  but  we'll  sell  him  some  shirts  and 
neckties  as  well.  He  and  I  clerked  together  in  Van 
Buskirk  &  Patterson's." 

As  a  sequel  to  Max's  visit  to  the  Farmers'  Na 
tional  Bank,  Abe  and  Morris  waited  in  vain  for 
the  return  of  Sam's  check. 

"How  did  you  know  the  check  wasn't  good, 
Mawruss?"  Abe  asked  his  partner  a  week  later. 

"I  ain't  said  it  ain't  good,  Abe,"  Morris  protes 
ted;  "only  I  seen  Markson,  which  he  works  for 
Klinger  &  Klein  as  a  bookkeeper,  in  Hammersmith's 
to-day  and  he  says  that  Moe  Griesman  goes  round 
trying  to  buy  up  all  Sam  Green's  bills  payable;  and 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  185 

he's  got  about  five  hundred  dollars'  worth  now 
already." 

"Sure,  I  know  he  did,"  Abe  replied.  "He  got 
from  Kleiman  &  Elenbogen  Sam's  three-hundred- 
and-fifty-dollar  debt  for  two  hundred  and  seventy- 
five  cash  and  Sam  sends  'em  the  check  for  the  full 
amount  the  day  before  yesterday.  I  seen  Louis 
Kleiman  yesterday  and  he  was  feeling  pretty  sore, 
I  bet  yer." 

Morris  nodded.  He  had  been  completely  mysti 
fied  about  Sam's  affairs  since  the  arrival  of  a  letter 
from  Cyprus  addressed  to  Morris  personally,  where 
in  Sam  repaid  the  money  advanced  for  his  hotel  ac 
commodation  and  announced  that  he  had  abandoned 
for  the  present  his  intention  of  returning  to  New 
York.  Morris's  mystification  was  hardly  abated 
by  the  following  letter,  which  arrived  on  the  heels 
of  the  conversation  above  set  forth : 

SAMUEL  GREEN  &  Co. 

DRY-GOODS  AND  NOTIONS 
THE  K.  &  M.  SYLPHSHAPE  CORSET 

CYPRUS,  NEW  YORK,  MAY  I,  1910. 

GENTS:     We   inclose   you  herewith  memorandum  of   order, 
Kindly  ship  same  within  ten  days  by  fast  freight,  and  oblige 
Yours  truly,  SAMUEL  GREEN  &  Co. 

P.  S.  You  "should  telegraph  Farmers'  National  Bank  for 
references  if  you  ain't  satisfied  to  ship  without  it.  Business 
is  good.  S.  GREEN. 

Morris  Perlmutter's  relations  with   Sol   Klinger 


186  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

retained  their  cordiality  despite  the  rupture  between 
Abe  Potash  and  Klinger  &  Klein.  To  be  sure, 
Moe  Griesman's  defection  had  rankled,  but  Morris 
consoled  himself  with  the  maxim,  "Business  is  bus 
iness";  and  when  he  met  Sol  Klinger  in  Hammer 
smith's  restaurant  during  the  first  week  of  the  spring 
buying  season  he  greeted  Sol  cordially.  His  friendly 
advance,  however,  met  with  a  decided  rebuff. 

"What's  the  matter  now,  Sol?"  Morris  asked. 

Sol  nodded  his  head  slowly. 

"It's  a  great  world,  Mawruss,"  he  said. 

Morris  agreed  with  him.  "There's  business 
enough  in  it  for  everybody  anyhow,  Sol,  if  that's 
what  you  mean,"  he  replied. 

"In  lots  of  places,  yes,  but  in  others,  no,"  Sol 
said.  "But  with  some  people,  Mawruss,  they're 
like  a  snake  in  the  grass,  which  it  bites  the  hand 
that  feeds  it." 

"What's  Moe  Klein  been  doing  now?"  Morris 
asked. 

"Moe  Klein?"  Sol  cried.  "What  d'ye  mean, 
Moe  Klein?  I  ain't  talking  about  Moe  Klein  at  all. 
I  am  talking  about  Max  Kirschner,  Mawruss. 
There's  a  feller  which  we  give  him  for  twenty  years 
good  wages,  Mawruss,  and  what  do  we  get  for  it? 
After  he  leaves  us,  Mawruss  — " 

"Left  you?"  Morris  interrupted.  "Why,  I  al 
ways  thought  you  fired  him." 

"Sure,  we  fired  him,"  Sol  continued.     "A  lowlife 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  187 

bum  which  he  makes  always  a  hog  of  himself,  why 
shouldn't  we  fire  him?  And  then,  Mawruss,  when 
we  are  taking  on  Moe  Greisman's  nephew,  Rabiner, 
what  does  that  sucker  Max  Kirschner  do?  He 
turns  around  and  fixes  up  with  a  feller  by  the  name 
Sam  Green,  in  Cyprus,  to  go  as  partners  together  in 
Sam  Green's  store  up  there.  And  mind  you,  Maw 
russ,  Moe  Griesman  had  just  bought  out  Sam 
Green's  competitors,  Van  Buskirk  &  Patterson. 
And  Max  Kirschner  knows  all  the  time  that  the  only 
reason  that  we  took  on  Mozart  Rabiner  was  on 
account  of  his  uncle,  Moe  Griesman." 

Sol  Klinger  was  so  interested  in  his  own  narrative 
that  he  completely  failed  to  notice  its  effect  on  Mor 
ris  Perlmutter,  who  sat  with  his  jaw  dropping  lower 
and  lower,  while  great  beads  of  perspiration  stood 
on  his  forehead. 

"Yes,  Mawruss,"  Sol  continued;  "Moe  Griesman 
even  comes  down  himself  from  Sarahcuse  to  Cyprus 
to  superintend  things.  Five  thousand  dollars  fix 
tures  he  puts  in  and  forty  thousand  dollars  he  pays 
them  two  yokels,  Van  Buskirk  &  Patterson,  for  the 
good-will,  stock,  and  store  building;  and  what  hap 
pens?  For  a  whole  month  Moe  sits  in  that  store 
and  not  a  hundred  dollars'  worth  of  goods  goes  out 
of  the  place,  Mawruss;  and  why?  It  seems  that 
Sam  Green  and  Max  Kirschner  does  all  the  business 
because  Max  Kirschner  is  born  and  raised  in  Cyprus 
and  knows  everybody  in  the  place." 


i88  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

"Max  was  born  and  raised  in  Cyprus?"  Morris 
gasped. 

"That's  what  I  said,"  Sol  replied.  "That's  a 
Nachbarschaft  for  a  feller  to  be  born  in!  What?" 

Morris  nodded  and  rose  wearily  to  his  feet. 

"I  never  could  remember  the  name  of  the  place 
even,  at  all,"  he  said.  "Well,  I  guess  now  I  would 
be  getting  back  to  the  store." 

"You  got  my  permission,"  Sol  said  as  Morris 
started  from  the  restaurant.  These  were  destined 
to  be  the  last  words  addressed  to  Morris  by  Sol 
Klinger  in  many  a  long  day,  for  the  moving  incidents 
which  awaited  Morris's  return  to  his  showroom 
put  an  end  to  all  friendship  between  him  and  Sol. 

Imprimis,  when  Morris  entered,  Moe  Griesman 
was  seated  in  the  firm's  private  office,  the  centre  of 
an  animated  group  of  four.  "Hello,  there,  Maw- 
russ!"  Moe  shouted;  "there's  a  couple  of  gentle 
men  here  which  would  like  to  talk  to  you." 

He  indicated  a  ruddy,  clean-shaven  person  of 
approximately  fifty  years,  who  on  closer  inspection 
proved  to  be  Max  Kirschner  shorn  of  his  white  mous 
tache  and  without  the  attendant  nimbus  of  his  dia 
mond  pin.  The  other  individual  was  even  harder 
to  identify  by  reason  of  a  neat-fitting  business  suit 
of  brown  and  a  general  air  of  prosperity;  but  in  him 
Morris  descried  the  person  of  what  had  once  been 
Sam  Green. 

"Morris,  you  old  rascal,"  Max  cried,  "when  you 


A  RETURN  TO  ARCADY  189 

took  me  over  to  the  Prince  Clarence  Hotel  that  day 
why  didn  't  you  tell  me  that  the  man  you  wanted  me 
to  go  into  business  with  ran  a  store  in  Cyprus  ? " 

"I  couldn't  remember  the  name  of  the  place  at 
all,"  Morris  admitted. 

Abe  gazed  at  him  sorrowfully. 

"The  fact  is,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  "my  partner 
ain't  got  no  head  at  all." 

Sam  Green's  face  flushed  in  recollection  of  the 
phrase. 

"Never  mind,"  he  said  fervently;  "he's  got  any 
how  a  heart." 

"And  I've  got  a  stomach,"  Max  Kirschner  added 
irrelevantly.  "At  least,  I've  recovered  one  since 
I've  been  eating  Leah  Green's  good  cooking." 

Sam  and  Moe  Griesman  smiled  sympathetically. 

"Well,  what's  the  use  wasting  time  here,  boys?" 
Moe  said  at  last.  "Let's  explain  to  Mawruss  about 
the  new  combination.  Me  and  Max  and  Sam  Green 
here  have  agreed  to  go  as  partners  together  in  Cyprus 
under  the  name  'The  Cyprus  Dry-goods  Company.' 
In  a  small  town  like  Cyprus  competition  is  nix." 

"Good!"  Morris  exclaimed.  "I'm  glad  to  hear 
it.  Is  the  Sarahcuse  store  included  too?" 

"A  ten  per  cent,  interest  they  got,  although  I  am 
going  to  run  my  Sarahcuse  business  and  these  here 
boys  is  going  to  run  the  Cyprus  end,"  Moe  contin 
ued.  "And  now,  Abe,  as  Max  has  got  to  pick  out 
a  lot  of  goods  for  the  Cyprus  store  and  I  want  to 


i9o  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

do  the  same  for  my  Sarahcuse  store,  let's  get  to 
work." 

For  three  hours  without  cessation  they  laboured 
over  Potash  &  Perlmutter's  sample  line  until  gar 
ments  to  an  amount  in  excess  of  five  thousand  dol 
lars  had  been  ordered. 

When  Max  Kirschner  saw  the  total  of  Moe  Gries- 
man's  selection  for  the  Syracuse  store  he  emitted 
a  low  whistle. 

"Say,  Moe,"  he  said,  " ain't  you  going  to  give 
your  nephew,  Rabiner,  any  show  at  all  this  season?" 

"Oser  a  Stuck"  Griesman  declared.  "I  done 
enough  for  that  feller  when  I  got  him  a  three  years' 
contract  with  Klinger  &  Klein." 


CHAPTER  SIX 
A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.  GEIGERMANN 

WELL,  Abe,"  Morris  Perlmutter  declared, 
one  morning  in  midwinter,  "you  look  like 
you  had  a  pretty  lively  session  last  night.'' 

Abe  nodded  slowly.  "I  want  to  tell  you  some 
thing,  Mawruss,"  he  said  solemnly;  "I  would  da 
anything  at  all  to  hold  a  customer's  trade,  Mawruss. 
I  would  go  on  theayter  with  him.  I  would  schmiet 
him  tenspots  when  he's  got  the  bid  already,  and  I 
would  go  bate  on  hands  which  even  a  rotten  playef 
like  you  couldn't  lose,  Mawruss.  But  before  1 
would  got  to  sit  through  such  another  evening  like 
last  night,  Mawruss,  Felix  Geigermann  should 
never  buy  from  us  again  a  dollar's  worth  more  goods? 
That's  all  I  got  to  say." 

"Why,  what  was  the  matter?"  Morris  asked. 

"Well,  in  the  first  place,  Mawruss,  to  show  you 
what  a  liar  that  feller  Geigermann  is,  he  brings  out 
a  fiddle  which  he  tells  us  is  three  hundred  years 
old." 

"Yow!  Three  hundred  years  old!"  Morris 
exclaimed  skeptically.  "A  fiddle  three  hundred 

191 


i92  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

years  old  would  be  worth,  the  very  least,  a  hundred 
or  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars." 

"That's  what  I  told  him,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said. 
"I  says  to  him  if  I  would  got  a  fiddle  which  it  is 
worth  that  much  money  I  would  quick  sell  it  and 
buy  something  which  it  is  anyhow  useful,  like  a 
diamond  ring  oder  a  scarfpin.  But  Geigermann 
only  laughs  at  me,  Mawruss;  he  says  he  don't 
own  the  fiddle,  Mawruss,  but  that  somebody  loaned 
at  him.  Even  if  he  would  own  it,  he  wouldn't 
take  two  hundred  dollars  for  it." 

"My  worries,  if  he  owns  the  fiddle  oder  not, 
|  Abe!"  Morris  commented. 

"Sure,  I  know,  Mawruss;  but  that  ain't  the  point. 
Afterward  Mozart  Rabiner  comes  in;  and  if  I  would 
foe  Felix  Geigermann,  Mawruss,  and  a  salesman  comes 
into  my  house  and  gets  fresh  with  a  pianner  which 
the  least  it  stands  Geigermann  in  is  a  hundred 
dollars,  Mawruss,  I  would  kick  him  into  the  street 
yet." 

"What  is  Mozart  Rabiner  doing  there,  Abe?" 
Morris  inquired  anxiously. 

Abe  preserved  a  cheerful  demeanour,  although 
it  was  the  circumstance  of  Mozart  Rabiner's  promi 
nence  at  Geigermann's  musicale  that  had  ren 
dered  the  evening  so  unbearable. 

"Well,  Mawruss,"  he  explained,  "you  don't  sup 
pose  that  Geigermann  buys  all  his  goods  from  us?" 

Morris  elevated  his  eyebrows  gloomily. 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.   GEIGERMANN  193 

"I  don't  suppose  nothing,  Abe,"  he  said;  "but 
once  you  let  a  shark  like  Rabiner  get  in  with  Geiger- 
mann,  Klinger  &  Klein  would  give  him  the  priv 
ilege  to  cut  our  price  till  they  run  us  right  out  of 
there." 

"It's  an  open  market,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said, 
"and  anyhow  I  am  doing  all  I  can  to  keep  that 
feller's  business.  You  would  think  so  if  you  would 
of  been  there  last  night,  Mawruss.  First  a  lady  in 
one  of  them  two-piece  velvet  suits  —  afterward  I  see 
the  jacket;  a  ringer  for  our  style  forty-two-twenty, 
Mawruss  —  she  gets  up  on  the  floor,  Mawruss,  and 
she  hollers  bloody  murder,  Mawruss.  I  never 
heard  the  like  since  that  Italiener  girl  which  we  got 
working  for  us  on  White  Street  catches  her  finger 
in  the  buttonhole  machine.  Mozart  Rabiner  plays 
for  her  on  the  pianner,  Mawruss;  and  when  she  gets 
through,  the  way  Rabiner  jollies  her  you  would 
think  she  would  be  buying  goods  for  Marshall 
Field  yet.  After  that,  Geigermann  takes  the  fiddle 
and  him  and  Moe  Rabiner  gets  together  by  the 
pianner  and  for  three  quarters  of  an  hour,  Maw 
russ,  they  work  away  like  they  was  being  paid 
for  it." 

"Moe  Rabiner  gets  paid  for  it,  I  bet  yer,"  Morris 
agreed. 

"What  a  noise  them  fellers  make  it,  Mawruss  I" 
Abe  continued.  "Honestly,  I  thought  my  head 
was  busting;  and  when  they  get  finished  the  lady 


I94  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

which  done  the  hollering  asks  'em  who  the  piece 
is  by,  Mawruss  —  and  who  do  you  think  Rabiner 
says?" 

"How  should  I  know  who  he  says?"  Morris 
retorted  angrily. 

"Richard   Strauss,"  Abe   replied. 

"Richard  Strauss?"  Morris  asked.  "You  mean 
that  feller  Strauss  of  Klipmann,  Strauss  &  Bleimer, 
I  suppose?" 

"It  must  be  the  same  feller,"  Abe  said.  "Seem 
ingly  everybody  there  knows  him;  and  besides, 
Mawruss,  that  feller  Strauss  is  another  one  of  them 
musical  fellers  too.  Only  the  other  day  Klipmann 
tells  me  that  feller  spends  a  fortune  going  on  the 
opera  with  customers." 

"But  I  thought  Klipmann's  partner  was  called 
Milton  Strauss,"  Morris  said. 

"Maybe  it  was  Milton  Strauss,"  Abe  continued. 
"Milton  oder  Richard,  I  couldn't  remember.  It 
was  one  of  them  up-to-date  names  anyhow;  and,  mind 
you,  Mawruss,  that  feller  Rabiner  has  got  the 
nerve  to  ask  me  if  I  didn't  like  Strauss.  What 
could  I  say?  If  that  cut-throat  Rabiner  thinks  he 
is  going  to  get  me  to  knock  a  competitor  in  front 
of  Geigermann  he's  mistaken.  'Sure  I  like  him,'  I 
says;  'why  not?'  'In  that  case,'  Moe  says,  'we'll 
play  some  more  of  this.'  'Go  as  far  as  you  like,' 
I  says,  and  they  kept  it  up  till  the  elevator  boy 
rings  the  bell  and  says  a  lady  on  the  top  floor  is 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.   GEIGERMANN  195 

sick.  I  don't  blame  her,  Mawruss;  I  was  pretty 
sick  myself." 

Morris  nodded  sympathetically. 

"So,  then,  Mawruss,"  Abe  continued,  "Geiger- 
mann  takes  the  fiddle  again  and  shows  it  to  us,  Maw 
russ;  and  he  says  on  the  back  is  a  ruby  varnish." 

"Rubies  is  pretty  high  now,  Abe,"  Morris  said; 
"carat  for  carat,  rubies  is  a  whole  lot  more  expensive 
as  diamonds." 

"Gewiss,  Mawruss,"  Abe  cried;  "but  I  seen  the 
back  of  the  fiddle,  Mawruss,  and  if  the  varnish  on 
it  was  made  from  rubies,  Mawruss,  I  would  eat  it. 
The  fiddle  was  an  ordinary  fiddle  like  any  other 
fiddle;  only  one  thing  I  see,  Mawruss — on  the 
inside  is  a  little  piece  from  paper,  y'understand,  and 
printed  on  it  is  the  name  from  some  Italiener  or 
another,  with  some  figures  on  it.  Geigermann.  says 
it  was  stuck  in  there  three  hundred  years  ago,  when 
the  fiddle  was  made.  And  you  ought  to  see  Moe 
Rabiner,  Mawruss.  He  looks  at  that  fiddle  for 
pretty  near  half  an  hour.  He  turns  it  upside  down 
and  he  blows  into  it  and  he  takes  his  finger  and  wets 
it  and  rubs  on  it,  and  he  smells  it,  and  Gott  weiss 
what  he  don't  do  with  it." 

"He's  a  dangerous  feller,  Abe,"  Morris  com 
mented.  "He  don't  never  stop  at  nothing  to  sell 
goods." 

"Well,  I  wasn't  much  behind  him,  Mawruss," 
Abe  said.  "When  he  smells  it,  I  smell  it.  He  wets 


196  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

his  finger,  I  wet  my  finger.  Everything  what  that 
sucker  does  to  that  fiddle,  I  did.  He  couldn't 
get  nothing  on  me.  Mawruss.  If  he  would  offer 
to  eat  the  fiddle,  y'understand,  I  would  got  just  so 
good  appetite  as  he  got  it,  Mawruss,  and  don't  you 
forget  it.  I  ain't  going  to  let  go  so  easy." 

"Might  you  couldn't  help  yourself  maybe,'" 
Morris  commented. 

"You  shouldn't  worry,  Mawruss,"  Abe  con 
cluded.  "I  sold  Felix  Geigermann  since  way  before 
the  Spanish  War  already,  and  I  would  sooner 
expect  my  own  brother  — -  supposing  I  got  one  — - 
to  turn  us  down  as  him." 

Despite  Abe's  optimism,  however,  the  order  for 
spring  goods  that  Felix  Geigermann  bestowed  on 
them  a  month  later  fell  short  of  their  expectations 
by  over  five  hundred  dollars. 

"Business  couldn't  be  so  good  with  Felix  this 
year,  Mawruss,"  Abe  commented. 

"Don't  you  jolly  yourself,  Abe,"  Morris  replied. 
"It  ain't  so  much  that  business  is  bad  with  Felix 
as  it  is  better  with  Klinger  &  Klein.  Them  two 
cut-throats  ain't  paying  Rabiner  good  money  for 
only  playing  the  planner.  He's  got  to  sell  goods  too." 

"That's  all  right,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said.  "Let 
him  go  ahead  and  spiel  pianner  till  he's  blue  in  the 
face.  Sooner  or  later  Geigermann  would  find  out 
what  stickers  them  Klinger  &  Klein  garments  is, 
and  then  Moe  Rabiner  couldn't  sell  him  no  more  of 


A  PRESENT  FOR~MR.~^GEIGERMANN  197 

them  goods,  not  if  he  would  be  a  whole  orchestra 
already." 

-The  personality  "of  Aaron  Shellak  was  simpiy 
thrown  away  on  the  garment  trade.  His  lean, 
scholarly  face,  surmounted  by  a  shock  of  wavy 
brown  hair,  would  have  assured  his  success  as  a  vir 
tuoso,  and  no  one  knew  this  better  than  his  brother, 
Professor  Ladislaw  Wcelak,  under  whose  tuition 
he  had  struggled  through  the  intricacies  of  the 
first  and  second  positions. 

"  If  you  would  only  forget  you  ain't  got  a  pair  of 
shears  in  your  right  hand,  Aaron,"  the  professor 
said,  "and  listen  to  what  I  am  telling  you,  in  two 
years'  time  you  are  making  more  money  than  all 
the  garment  cutters  together.  All  you  got  to  do  is 
to  play  just  halfway  good." 

"I  suppose  you're  a  millionaire,  ain't  it?"  Aaron 
rejoined.  "And  you  can  play  fiddle  like  a  streak." 
The  professor  heaved  a  great  sigh  as  he  passed 
his  hand  over  his  bald  head. 

"With  your  hair,  Aaron,"  he  said,  "I  could  make 
fifty  thousand  a  year  on  concert  towers  alone,  to 
say  nothing  of  two  recitals  up  on  Fifty-seventh 
Street.  But  if  a  feller  only  got  one  arm,  Aaron, 
he  would  better  got  a  show  to  be  a  fiddle  virtuoso 
as  if  he  would  be  bald." 

Thus  encouraged  Aaron  persevered  with  his  prac 
tice  for  some  months;  but,  despite  the  patient 


I98  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

instruction  of  his  brother  Louis  the  garment  cutter's 
I  wrist  still  handicapped  him. 

/'That's  a  legato  phrase,"  Louis  Shellak  cried 
impatiently,  one  night  in  mid-February.  "With 
one  bow  you  got  to  play  it." 

" Which  phrase  are  you  talking  about,"  Aaron 
asked  —  "the  one  that  goes  'Ta-ra-reera,  ta-ra- 
reera'?" 

He  sang  the  two  measures  in  a  clear  tenor  voice, 
whereat  Louis  snatched  the  violin  from  his  brother's 
grasp  and,  seating  himself  at  the  piano,  he  struck 
the  major  triad  of  C  natural  with  force  sufficient 
to  wreck  the  instrument. 

"Sing  'Ah'!  "  he  commanded. 

Aaron  attacked  the  high  C  like  a  veteran  and 
Professor  Ladislaw  Wcelak  leaped  from  the  piano 
stool  with  an  inarticulate  cry.  Immediately  there 
after  he  secured  a  strangle-hold  on  his  brother  and 
kissed  him  Budapest  fashion  on  both  cheeks. 

"To-morrow  night  already  you  will  commence 
lessons  with  the  best  teacher  money  could  buy," 
he  declared. 

"Whose  money?"  Aaron  Shellak  inquired,  as  he 
wiped  away  the  marks  of  his  brother's  affection  — 
" yours  or  mine?" 

"Me  —  I  ain't  got  no  money,"  Louis  admitted. 

"Me  neither,"  Aaron  said.  He  was  the  sole 
support  of  his  mother  and  sisters,  for  Louis,  as 
chef  d'orchestre  in  a  Second  Avenue  restaurant, 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.  GEIGERMANN    199 

constantly  anticipated  his  salary  over  stuss  or  tarrok 
in  the  rear  of  his  employer's  cafe. 

"How  much  would  it  take?"  he  asked  Louis  after 
a  silence  of  several  minutes. 

Louis  shrugged. 

"Who  knows?"  he  replied.  "Fifty  dollars  oder 
a  hundred,  perhaps." 

Aaron  nodded;  and  the  next  day,  when  he  entered 
Potash  &  Perlmutter's  place  of  business,  he  carried 
with  him  his  violin  and  bow  in  a  black  leather  case. 
Thus  it  happened  that  the  strains  of  Godard's 
Berceuse  saluted  Abe  as  he  stepped  from  the  elevator 
that  morning;  and  without  removing  his  coat  he 
made  straight  for  the  cutting  room. 

" Koosh!"  he  bellowed.  "What  are  we  running 
here,  anyhow,  Shellak  —  a  cloak-and-suit  house 
oder  a  theayter?" 

Aaron  hastily  replaced  the  instrument  in  its  case. 

"I  am  only  showing  it  to  Nathan,"  he  mumbled 
by  way  of  explanation.  "Might  he  would  like  to 
buy  it  maybe." 

"If  you  want  to  sell  fiddles,  Shellak,"  Abe  said, 
"do  it  outside  business  hours.  That's  all  I  got  to 
say." 

He  proceeded  at  once  to  the  showroom,  where 
Morris  was  peeling  off  his  overcoat.  The  latter 
greeted  Abe  with  a  sour  nod.  "I  am  sick  and  tired 
of  it,  Abe,"  he  declared.  "Everybody  is  stealing 
our  business." 


200  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"What  d'ye  mean,  everybody's  stealing  our 
business?"  Abe  asked. 

"Last  night  I  am  sitting  in  the  Harlem  Winter 
Garden  with  Felix  Geigermann,  and  Leon  Sammet 
butts  in  on  us  and  tells  Geigermann  he's  got 
a  cousin  which  he  could  play  shello,  and  Geiger 
mann  says  that  he  should  come  around  to  the 
house  next  Tuesday  and  play  it  with  him  and 
Rabiner." 

Abe   shrugged   his   shoulders. 

"My  tzuris  if  he  does,  Mawruss,"  he  said; 
"because  while  I  don't  know  nothing  about  this 
here  game,  y'understand,  a  good  way  to  lose  a 
customer  is  to  play  cards  with  him." 

"What  are  you  talking  nonsense,  Abe?"  Morris 
cried.  "Shello  ain't  cards.  A  shello  is  a  fiddle 
which  you  play  it  with  your  knees." 

"For  my  part  he  could  play  it  with  his  nose, 
Mawruss,"  Abe  declared  hotly.  "Do  you  mean  to 
told  me,  Mawruss,  that  a  business  man  like  Geiger 
mann  is  going  to  buy  a  line  of  goods  like  Sammet 
Brothers  got  it  just  because  Leon  Sammet's  cousin 
plays  a  fiddle  with  his  knees?" 

"Yow!  His  cousin?"  Morris  exclaimed.  "He's 
as  much  got  a  cousin  which  he  plays  the  shello  as 
I  got  one.  He's  going  to  give  some  greenhorn  a 
couple  of  dollars  to  go  with  him  to  Geigermann's 
house  and  play  the  fiddle;  and  the  first  thing  you 
know,  Abe,  Geigermann  is  buying  from  him  a  big 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.  GEIGERMANN    201 

bill  of  goods  and  all  the  time  our  orders  gets  smaller 
and  smaller  till  we  lose  his  trade  altogether." 

Abe  laughed  mirthlessly  and  bit  the  end  off  his 
after-breakfast  cigar. 

"  If  I  would  worry  myself  the  way  you  do,  Maw- 
russ,  every  time  a  competitor  says  '  Hello'  to  a 
customer  of  ours,"  he  said  as  he  turned  away,  "I 
would  gone  crazy  in  the  head  schon  long  since  ago 
already." 

Nevertheless  he  pondered  Leon  Sammet's  move 
all  the  morning,  and  after  Morris  had  gone  to  lunch 
he  paced  the  showroom  floor  for  more  than  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  in  an  effort  to  formulate  some  plan  for 
regaining  Geigermann's  business.  His  reflections 
were  at  length  interrupted  by  a  faint  scraping  from 
the  rear  of  the  store.  Once  more  Aaron  Shellak 
was  entertaining  the  cutting-room  staff  with  a 
pianissimo  rendition  of  Godard's  Berceuse;  but 
even  as  Abe  tiptoed  across  the  showroom  to  crush 
the  performance  with  an  explosive  "Koosh!"  the 
melody  ceased. 

"That's  a  genu-ine  Amati,"  Aaron  said,  "and 
you  could  see  for  yourself  —  inside  here  is  the 
label." 

Abe  stopped  short.  The  word  "Amati"  brought 
back  to  him  the  scene  of  Felix  Geigermann's  musi- 
cale,  and  his  heart  thumped  unpleasantly  as  he 
listened  to  Aaron^s  exhibition  of  salesmanship. 

"Moreover,"  Aaron  continued,  "here  is  the  scroll 


202  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

which  it  is  ever  so  much  finer  as  them  other  fiddles 
you  could  buy  for  fifty  oder  sixty  dollars.  Look  at 
the  varnish  on  the  back,  Nathan  —  shines  like 
rubies,  ain't  it?" 

"What  would  I  do  with  a  fiddle,  Aaron?"  Nathan 
Schenkman,  the  shipping  clerk,  asked. 

"You  I  ain't  saying  at  all,"  Aaron  said;  "but 
you  got  a  little  boy  Nathan." 

"He  ain't  a  year  old  yet,"  Nathan  interrupted. 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Shellak  went  on;  "but  now  is 
the  time,  Nathan.  You  couldn't  begin  too  early. 
Look  at  Kubelik  and  Kreisler  and  all  them  fellers. 
When  they  was  eating  from  a  bottle  already  the 
old  man  give  'em  a  fiddle  to  play  with,  and  to-day 
where  are  they?  In  one  concert  tower  alone, 
Nathan,  them  fellers  makes  from  fifty  to  a  hundred 
thousand  dollars." 

He  paused  so  that  Nathan  might  better  appre 
hend  the  alluring  prospect. 

"And  I'll  let  you  have  it  for  a  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars,  Nathan,"  he  concluded.  "Ten  dollars 
down  and  two  dollars  a  week  till  paid.  No  interest 
nor  nothing." 

At  this  juncture  Abe  burst  into  the  cutting  room. 

"Nu,  Shellak!"  he  roared.  "What  are  you 
trying  to  do?  Skin  a  poor  feller  like  Nathan,  which 
he  got  a  wife  and  a  child  to  support?" 

"What  d'ye  mean,  skin  him?"  Aaron  retorted. 
"I  ain't  no  crook,  Mr.  Potash." 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.   GEIGERMANN  203 

"That's  all  right,  Shellak,"  Abe  went  on.  "I 
heard  every  word  you  are  saying.  Come  inside; 
I  want  to  talk  to  you." 

Aaron's  face  blanched  and  he  trembled  visibly. 

"But,  Mr.  Potash "  he  began. 

"Never  mind!"  Abe  bellowed;  "take  that  fiddle 
and  all  that  machshovos  you  got  there  and  come  in 
here." 

Abe  led  the  way  to  the  front  of  the  showroom, 
followed  by  the  crestfallen  Shellak,  who  deposited 
fiddle,  bow,  and  case  on  a  sample  table. 

"Say,  lookyhere,  Shellak,"  Abe  said  in  kindly 
tones,  "what  the  devil  are  you  trying  to  sell  a 
Schnorrer  like  that  a  good  fiddle?  Why  don't  you 
give  me  a  show?" 

The  blood  surged  suddenly  to  Aaron's  face. 

"You!"  he  stammered.  "Why,  Mr.  Potash,  I 
never  knew  you  was  interested  in  violins." 

"Sure;  why  not?"  Abe  replied.  "Let  me  have  a 
look  at  it." 

First  he  squinted  into  the  right  "efF"  hole  and 
he  grunted  in  approval  as  he  spied  the  label,  which 
read  as  follows: 

NICOLAUS    AMATI    CREMONENSIS 

Faciebat  Anno  1670 

"  Do  you  know  anything  about  them  old  violins?" 
Aaron  asked  anxiously. 

Abe  smiled  in  a  superior  way. 


204  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Not  a  whole  lot,  Aaron,"  he  said,  but  by  the 
time  he  had  finished  his  examination  Aaron  became 
convinced  that  his  employer  was  indeed  one  of  the 
cognoscenti.  First  Abe  turned  the  violin  upside 
down  and  scrutinized  the  scroll,  neck,  belly,  and 
back.  Then  he  blew  into  the  "eff  "  holes;  and  wet 
ting  his  finger  he  rubbed  the  varnish.  For  five 
minutes  he  pursued  the  tactics  of  Mozart  Rabiner 
and  even  added  one  or  two  fancy  touches  on  his 
own  account,  until  at  length  he  laid  down  the 
instrument  with  a  profound  sigh. 

"Always  the  same  thing,  Shellak,"  he  said; 
"people  says  it  is  a  genu-ine  and  it  ain't." 

Aaron  took  up  his  violin  and  looked  at  it  through 
new  eyes. 

"Why  ain't  it  genu-ine?"  he  asked. 

"I  should  tell  you  why  it  ain't!"  Abe  exclaimed. 
"If  you  would  know  what  I  know  about  them 
things,  Shellak,  you  wouldn't  ask  me  such  a  question 
at  all.  Do  you  doubt  my  word?" 

"Why  should  I  doubt  your  word,  Mr.  Potash?" 
Aaron  said.  "In  the  inside  is  the  paper  and  that's 
all  I  know  about  it.  So,  if  you  would  give  me  a 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  Mr.  Potash,  you  could 
keep  the  fiddle,  bow,  case  und  fertig." 

For  some  minutes  they  haggled  over  the  bargain, 
and  at  length  they  closed  at  a  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  dollars,  for  which  Abe  gave  Shellak  his  personal 
check. 


'Do  you  know  anything  about  them  old  violins? 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.   GEIGERMANN  205 

"And  you  shouldn't  say  nothing  to  Mr.  Perl- 
mutter  about  it,"  Abe  concluded,  "because  I  want 
to  make  a  present  of  it  as  a  surprise  to  my  partner." 

When  Abe  came  downtown  the  following  morn 
ing  he  wore  so  marked  an  air  of  pleased  mystery  that 
Morris  became  irritated. 

"Let  me  in  on  this  too,  Abe,"  he  said. 

"Let  you  in  on  what,  Mawruss?"  Abe  asked 
innocently.  "I  don't  know  what  you  mean  at 
all." 

"You  know  very  well  what  I  mean,"  Morris 
rejoined.  "You  ain't  coming  around  here  grin 
ning  like  a  barn  door  for  nothing." 

"I  give  you  right  about  that,  Mawruss,"  Abe 
said.  "  I  got  in  a  good  Schlag  at  Leon  Sammet  and 
Aloe  Rabiner  last  night,  Mawruss,  I  bet  yer.  I 
got  from  Geigermann  a  repeat  order  on  them  two- 
piece  velvet  suits  —  seven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars; 
and  do  you  know  how  I  done  it?" 

"Chloroformed  him,"  Morris  suggested  iron 
ically. 

"That's  all  right,  Mawruss,"  Abe  retorted.  "Go 
ahead  and  joke  if  you  want  to.  Maybe  I  couldn't 
play  the  fiddle  with  my  knees  and  maybe  I  don't 
know  nothing  about  spieling  pianners  neither, 
y'understand;  but  I  got  a  little  gumption,  too, 
Mawruss,  and  don't  you  forget  it." 

He    retired    to    the    cutting    room  with    a    set 


206  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

expression  on  his  face,  as  though  to  imply  that  wild 
horses  could  not  drag  from  him  the  secret  of  Felix 
Geigermann's  renewed  patronage. 

For  twenty  minutes  he  remained  firm  in  .his 
resolve  not  to  gratify  his  partner's  curiosity;  and 
then  as  Morris  continued  to  whistle  cheerfully 
over  the  sample-rack  in  the  front  of  the  loft,  he  re 
turned  to  the  showroom. 

"Yes,  Mawruss,"  he  said;  "some  fellers  if  they 
would  do  what  I  done  with  Felix  Geigermann  they 
wouldn't  give  their  partner  a  minute's  peace.  For 
months  together,  Mawruss,  they  would  throw  it 
up  to  him." 

"What  is  the  difference,  Abe,  if  a  salesman  gets 
orders,  how  he  gets  'em,"  Morris  rejoined,  "so  long 
as  he  ain't  padding  his  expense  account?" 

"What  d'ye  mean,  padding  my  expense  ac 
count?"  Abe  cried.  "A  hundred  and  twenty-five 
dollars  the  fiddle  costed  me  and  that's  all  I  charge 
up." 

"The  fiddle!"  Morris  exclaimed.  "What  fiddle?" 

"The  fiddle  which  I  give  Geigermann  last  night," 
Abe  continued;  "and  if  you  don't  believe  me  you 
could  ask  Shellak." 

"Shellak?"  Morris  repeated.  "What  the  devil 
are  you  talking  about,  Abe?" 

"Yes,  Shellak,"  Abe  went  on,  "the  cutter.  He 
comes  round  here  yesterday  with  a  fiddle,  Mawruss, 
which  he  wants  to  sell  it  to  Nathan  Schenkman. 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.   GEIGERMANN  207 

So  I  give  him  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars 
for  it  und  fertig. " 

"You  give  Shellak  a  hundred  and  twenty-five 
dollars?"  Morris  exploded.  "Are  you  crazy,  oder 
what?" 

"It  was  a  genu-ine  Amati,"  Abe  explained;  "and 
so  soon  as  I  seen  it,  Mawruss,  I  thought  to  myself 
if  them  cut-throats  could  sell  Geigermann  a  big  bill 
of  goods  just  by  playing  on  fiddles,  y'understand, 
what  sort  of  an  order  could  I  get  out  of  him  suppos 
ing  I  should  give  him  a  fiddle  yet?  So  that's  what 
I  done,  Mawruss;  and  he  did,  Mawruss,  and  I  was 
right.  Ain't  it?" 

"Say,  lookyhere,  Abe,"  Morris  began  slowly; 
"let  me  get  this  thing  correct.  You  are  paying 
Shellak  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars  for  a 
fiddle  which  you  are  giving  Geigermann." 

"You  got  it  right,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said.  "It 
was  a  genu-ine  Amati." 

"For  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars  expenses 
you  are  getting  an  order  for  seven  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars,  Abe,"  Morris  said  relentlessly;  "and 
some  fellers  would  throw  it  up  to  their  partners 
for  months  together  yet." 

"It  was  a  genu-ine  Amati,  Mawruss,"  Abe 
repeated  for  the  third  time,  "and  for  a  genu-ine 
Amati,  Mawruss,  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars 
is  no  price  at  all." 

"Sure,  I  know,  Abe,"  Morris  said  bitterly;  "to 


208  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

you  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars  is  nothing 
at  all.  We  are  made  of  money,  Abe,  ain't  it? 
What  do  you  care  you  are  spending  a  hundred  and 
twenty-five  dollars  for  a  fiddle  when  for  seventy- 
five  dollars  on  Lenox  Avenue  and  a  Hundred  and 
Sixteenth  Street,  with  my  own  eyes  I  seen  it,  you 
could  buy  a  square  pianner  with  a  stool  and  scarf 
yet,  as  good  as  new.  If  you  want  to  schenk  the 
feller  something,  why  didn't  you  told  me  ?  What 
for  a  present  is  a  fiddle,  Abe,  when  for  half  the  money 
we  could  give  him  a  pianner  yet?" 

Abe  hung  his  head  in  embarrassment. 

"But  Mawruss,"  he  said,  "it  was  a  gemi-ine 
Amati." 

For  one  brief  moment  Morris  choked  with  rage. 

"Genu-ine  hell!"  he  roared,  and  plunged  away 
to  the  office. 

For  the  remainder  of  the  morning  Abe  went 
about  his  work  in  crestfallen  silence,  although 
Morris,  after  subjecting  Geigermann's  order  to  a 
little  cost  bookkeeping  on  the  back  of  an  envelope 
broke  once  more  into  a  cheerful  whistle. 

"Well,  Abe,"  he  said  at  twelve  o'clock,  "what  is 
vorbei  is  vorbei.  It  ain't  no  use  crying  over  sour 
milk,  so  I  am  going  out  to  lunch." 

"What  d'ye  mean,  sour  milk,  Mawruss?"  Abe 
retorted.  "The  sour  milk  is  all  on  your  side,  Maw 
russ,  because  I  am  telling  you  it  was  a  genu-ine 
Amati." 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.   GEIGERMANN  209 

"All  right,  Abe,"  Morris  said,  as  he  rang  for  the 
elevator;  "you  told  me  that  schon  twenty  times 
already.  I  wouldn't  give  you  two  dollars  for  all 
them  genu-ine  fellers'  fiddles  in  creation;  and  that's 
all  there  is  to  it." 

With  this  ultimatum  he  stepped  into  the  ele 
vator  and  five  minutes  afterward  he  sat  at  a  table 
in  Hammersmith's  restaurant  and  beguiled  with  a 
dill  pickle  the  interval  between  the  giving  and  filling 
of  his  order.  At  the  table  next  to  him  sat  an 
animated  group,  of  which  Louis  Kleiman  was  the 
centre. 

"Yes,  sirree,  sir!"  Louis  declared,  in  defiance  of 
the  law  of  scandal  and  libel;  "six  months  I  would 
give  the  feller  at  the  outside.  A  feller  couldn't 
attend  to  business  if  he  would  set  up  till  all  hours 
of  the  night  playing  fiddle  with  that  lowlife,  Rabiner. 
That  ain't  all  yet,  neither!  Yesterday  he  pays  for 
a  fiddle  three  thousand  dollars. " 

"For  a  fiddle  three  thousand  dollars!"  cried 
one  of  the  group,  and  the  good  half  of  a  dill  pickle 
fell  from  Morris's  limp  grasp. 

"That's  what  I  said,"  Louis  continued;  "for  three 
thousand  dollars  yet  he  is  buying  a  fiddle.  With 
my  own  eyes  I  seen  it  in  the  paper  this  morning;  and 
when  a  feller  puts  three  thousand  dollars  into  a 
fiddle,  y'understand,  he  could  kiss  himself  good-by 
with  his  business." 

At  this  juncture  Morris  beckoned  to  the  waiter. 


210  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Say,"  he  said  hoarsely,  "never  mind  that  roast 
spring  lamb  and  stuffed  tomatoes.  Bring  me 
instead  a  rye-bread  tongue  sandwich  and  a  cup 
coffee." 

After  the  waiter  had  gone  Morris  settled  back  in 
his  chair  and  listened  once  more  to  the  conversation 
at  the  next  table. 

"All  right;  then  I'm  a  liar,"  he  heard  Louis  say. 
"I  tell  you  I  got  the  paper  in  my  overcoat  pocket 
right  now." 

Louis  rose  from  his  seat  and  securing  the  morning 
paper  from  his  overcoat  he  read  aloud  the  following 
item: 

PAYS  HEAVILY  FOR   AMATI   VIOLIN 

Mrs.  Helene  Karanyi,  widow  of  the  celebrated  violinist,  Bela 
Karanyi,  has  sold  her  husband's  favourite  Amati  at  a  price  said 
to  be  over  three  thousand  dollars.  The  purchaser  is  Felix 
Geigermann,  who  said  yesterday  that  the  violin  had  been  in  his 
possession  for  some  time,  and  that  there  was  no  doubt  of  its 
authenticity.  It  was  presented  to  Karanyi  by  the  late  Prince 
Ludovic  Esterhazy,  whose  collection  of  Cremona  violins,  now 
preserved  by  his  son,  is  said  to  be  the  finest  in  the  world.  Mr. 
Geigermann  is  the  well-known  Harlem  dry-goods  merchant. 

Louis  Kleiman  folded  the  paper  and  laid  it  on 
the  table. 

"That's  the  way  it  goes,  boys,"  he  said  in  height 
ened  tones,  for  by  this  time  he  had  caught  sight  of 
Morris.  "A  new  beginner  comes  to  you  and  you 
give  him  a  little  line  of  credit,  y'understand,  and 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.   GEIGERMANN  211 

pretty  soon  he  is  buying  more  and  more  goods  till 
he  gets  to  be  a  big  macher  like  Felix  Geigermann. 
Then  either  one  of  two  things  happens  to  you: 
Either  he  begins  to  think  you  are  too  small  for  him 
and  he  turns  around  and  buys  goods  from  some 
other  sucker,  y'understand,  oder  he  goes  to  work 
and  throws  awray  his  money  left  and  right  on  oiter- 
mobiles  oder  fiddles,  and  sooner  or  later  he  busts 
up  on  you;  and  that's  the  way  it  goes." 

"You  shouldn't  worry  yourself,  Kleiman," 
Morris  cried,  turning  around  in  his  chair.  "Felix 
Geigermann  ain't  going  to  fail  just  yet  a  while." 

"Me worry?"  Kleiman  retorted.  "For  my  part, 
Felix  Geigermann  could  fail  to-morrow  yet;  he  don't 
owe  me  one  cent,  nor  never  would.  I  ain't  looking 
to  sell  no  goods  to  fiddlers,  Perlmutter.  I  am  deal 
ing  only  with  merchants." 

"Furthermore,"  Morris  went  on,  "if  Felix 
Geigermann  hears  it  you  are  making  a  break  like 
this  —  that  he's  going  to  fail  yet,  and  all  sorts  of 
crooks  you  are  calling  him,  Kleiman  —  he  would 
sue  you  in  the  courts  for  a  hundred  thousand  dollars 
yet.  From  a  big  mouth  a  feller  could  get  himself 
into  a  whole  lot  of  trouble." 

Kleiman  scrambled  hastily  to  his  feet  and  seized 
his  hat. 

"What  are  you  talking  nonsense,  Perlmutter?" 
he  exclaimed.  "I  ain't  said  nothing  out  of  the  way 
about  Geigermann.  You  are  the  one  what's 


212  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

putting  the  words  into  my  mouth  already.  Did  you 
ever  hear  anything  like  it!  —  I  am  saying  Geiger- 
mann  is  going  to  fail?  An  idee!  I  never  said 
nothing  of  the  kind.  All  I  am  saying  is  what  is 
right  here  in  the  paper,  black  on  white;  and  if  you 
don't  believe  me  you  could  read  it  for  yourself." 

He  handed  the  paper  to  Morris;  and,  as  the  latter 
commenced  to  read  over  the  Geigermann  paragraph, 
Kleiman  and  his  friends  slunk  hurriedly  out  of  the 
restaurant.  For  nearly  half  an  hour  Morris  pored 
over  the  newspaper;  then  he  choked  down  the  sand 
wich  and  swallowed  the  coffee,  which  by  this  time 
was  cold. 

"Admitting  I  am  only  your  partner,  Mawruss," 
Abe  began  as  Morris  entered  the  showroom  a  few 
minutes  later,  "don't  I  got  to  eat  too?  And  in  the 
second  place,  Mawruss,  if  you  got  to  make  a  hog 
of  yourself,  do  it  at  dinner-time  at  home,  because 
when  a  feller  takes  up  a  whole  hour  having  his 
lunch,  Mawruss,  he  naturally  stuffs  himself  so  full 
that  he  ain't  no  good  for  the  rest  of  the  day." 

A  lump  in  Morris's  throat,  which  may  or  may  not 
have  been  the  tongue  sandwich,  prevented  him  from 
replying;  but  at  last  he  swallowed  it  and,  after 
removing  his  hat  and  coat,  he  carefully  unfolded 
the  paper. 

"Don't  hurry  out  to  lunch,  Abe,"  he  said.  "I 
could  save  you  money.  I  got  something  to  tell 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.   GEIGERMANN  213 

you  which  it  would  take  away  your  appetite  so 
you  wouldn't  want  even  a  cup  coffee." 

Abe  paused  with  his  hand  on  the  hatrack. 

"What  d'ye  mean?"  he  demanded. 

"I  mean  I  am  eating  only  a  tongue  sandwich  and 
a  cup  coffee  in  Hammersmith's  just  now,"  Morris 
went  on,  "and  who  should  I  see  at  the  next  table 
but  Louis  Kleiman  of  Kleiman  &  Elenbogen. 
That's  a  dirty  lowlife,  that  feller,  Abe!  A  cut 
throat  like  him  should  be  making  money  in  bus 
iness!  Honestly,  Abe,  when  I  see  decent,  respect 
able  fellers  like " 

"Say,  lookyhere,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said,  "let  me 
go  to  my  lunch,  will  you?  I'm  hungry." 

"Hungry,  sagt  err  Morris  retorted.  "A  feller 
makes  a  god  of  his  stomach,  y'understand,  and  his 
business  is  nothing  at  all.  For  all  you  care,  Abe,  our 
whole  trade  could  fail  on  us,  so  long  as  you  could  eat. 
Everybody  says  the  same  thing;  the  feller's 

"Do  me  the  favour,  Mawruss,"  Abe  begged;  "tell 
me  about  it  afterward.  All  I  am  eating  for  my 
breakfast  is  one  egg,  so  sure  as  you're  standing  there." 

"All  right,  Abe;  I  wouldn't  keep  you  no  longer," 
Morris  said.  "If  you  could  got  it  in  your  heart  to 
eat,  when  one  of  your  best  customers  is  busting  up 
on  you,  go  ahead." 

"Our  best  customer?"  Abe  cried  —  "Mandel- 
berger  Brothers  &  Company?" 

"Geh  weg,  you  fool!"  Morris  exclaimed  angrily. 


214  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Why  should  a  millionaire  concern  like  Mandel- 
berger  Brothers  &  Company  got  to  fail?  You 
talk  like  a  lunatic." 

Once  more  Abe  seized  his  hat. 

"I  got  enough  of  your  nonsense,  Mawruss,"  he 
said,  starting  for  the  elevator. 

"Wait!"  Morris  cried,  grabbing  him  by  the  arm. 
"Did  you  ship  any  goods  to  Felix  Geigermann  yet?" 

"Felix  Geigermann?"  Abe  repeated.  "Is  that 
the  feller?" 

Morris  nodded,  and  this  time  Abe  hung  up  his 
hat  and  sat  down  heavily  in  the  nearest  chair. 

"Who  says  he's  going  to  fail?"  he  asked. 

"Everybody  says  so,"  Morris  replied;  "even  in 
the  papers  they  got  it." 

He  handed  Kleiman's  paper  to  Abe  and  indicated 
the  paragraph  with  a  shaking  forefinger. 

"Where  does  it  say  he  is  going  to  fail?"  Abe  asked 
after  he  had  read  it  over  hastily. 

"Where  does  it  say  it?"  Morris  cried.  "Why, 
if  a  feller  goes  to  work  and  pays  three  thousand 
dollars  for  a  fiddle,  Abe,  while  he  only  got  a  business 
rated  twenty-five  to  thirty  thousand,  credit  fair, 
ain't  it  as  plain  as  the  nose  on  your  face  he  must  got 
to  fail?" 

Once  more  Abe  read  over  the  paragraph  and  then 
the  paper  fell  from  his  hands  to  the  floor. 

"Why,  Mawruss,"  he  gasped,  "it  says  here  he  is 
paying  three  thousand  dollars  for  an  Amati  which 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.   GEIGERMANN    215 

he  had  in  his  possession  for  some  time.  That  must 
be  the  very  fiddle  which  he  is  playing  on  with  Moe 
Rabiner." 

"My  tzuris  if  it  is  oder  it  ain't,"  Morris  commen 
ted.  "What  difference  does  that  make  to  us,  Abe?" 

Abe's  face  was  white  and  large  beads  of  perspira 
tion  stood  out  on  his  forehead  as  he  replied. 

"The  difference  ain't  much,  Mawruss,"  he  said 
slowly.  "Only  if  Felix  Geigermann  pays  three 
thousand  for  the  fiddle  which  he  already  got  it  and 
we  are  giving  him  for  nothing  another  fiddle,  which 
is  the  selfsame,  identical  article,  Mawruss,  then  we 
are  out  three  thousand  dollars  —  and  that's  all  the 
difference  it  makes  to  us!" 

For  two  minutes  Morris  regarded  his  partner 
with  a  glassy  stare. 

"Do  you  mean  to  told  me,  Abe,  that  that  there 
fiddle  which  you  bought  it  from  Shellak  is  the  same 
identical  article  like  Geigermann  pays  three  thou 
sand  dollars  for?" 

Abe  nodded. 

"You  couldn't  tell  the  difference  between  'em, 
Mawruss,"  he  declared.  "Even  inside  the  label 
is  the  same  —  the  same  name  and  everything." 

Morris  took  off  his  hat  and  coat  methodically  and 
hung  them  up  on  the  rack. 

"So,  Abe,"  he  commenced,  "you  are  giving  to  a 
Schnorrer  like  Geigermann  a  genu-ine  who's-this 
violin,  which  it  is  worth  three  thousand  dollars!"/ 


216  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

"How  should  I  know  it  is  worth  three  thousand?" 
Abe  said. 

"Everybody  knows  that  one  of  them  genu-ine 
feller's  violins  is  worth  three  thousand  dollars," 
Morris  thundered.  "I'm  surprised  to  hear  you, 
you  should  talk  that  way." 

"  Shellak  didn't  know  it  for  one,"  Abe  interrupted, 
"otherwise  why  should  he  sell  to  us  for  a  hundred 
and  twenty-five  dollars  a  fiddle  worth  three  thou 
sand  dollars?" 

"What  should  a  greenhorn  like  Shellak  know 
about  such  things?"  Morris  said. 

"Don't  you  fool  yourself,  Mawruss.  If  Shellak 
finds  out  he  is  getting  a  hundred  and  twenty-five 
for  a  fiddle  worth  three  thousand,  he's  got  gump 
tion  enough  to  sue  us  in  the  courts  yet,  and  don't 
you  forget  it." 

"Why  should  he  sue  us,  Abe?"  Morris  asked. 
"A  bargain  is  a  bargain,  ain't  it?" 

"Sure  I  know,  Mawruss;  but  I  told  the  feller  the 
fiddle  wasn't  genu-ine,  y'understand,  when  all  the 
time  I  knew  it  was  genu-ine." 

"Might  you  are  mistaken  maybe,  Abe," Morris 
broke  in.  "Might  the  fiddle  ain't  genu-ine." 

"What  d'ye  mean,  ain't  genu-ine?  I  am  telling 
you  the  label  was  inside  and  even  the  lot  number  is 
the  same." 

"The  lot  number?" 

"Sure,  the  lot  number.     Sixteen-seventy,  I  think 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.   GEIGERMANN    217 

it  was;  and  the  only  thing  for  us  to  do,  Mawruss,  is 
we  should  fix  up  some  scheme  to  get  that  fiddle 
back  from  Geigermann;  and  that's  all  there  is  to  it." 

"Well,  go  ahead,  Abe,"  Morris  said.  "Go 
ahead  and  see  him  this  afternoon." 

For  the  third  time  Abe  put  on  his  hat. 

"First  and  foremost  I  would  go  out  and  get  a 
bite  to  eat,  Mawruss,"  he  said.  "What  good  would 
it  do  me  to  get  the  fiddle  back  if  I  would  die  from 
starvation  first?" 

Although  the  manufacturers  of  mechanical 
piano-players  had  never  solicited  Felix  Geiger- 
mann's  photograph  for  half- tone  reproductions  in  the 
advertising  section  of  anybody's  magazine,  he 
dressed  as  though  he  expected  the  immediate  arrival 
of  the  man  with  the  camera  —  that  is  to  say,  he 
wore  his  hair  after  Mahler,  while  Hollman  and 
Moritz  Rosenthal  contributed  to  the  pattern  of  his 
moustache.  Moreover,  he  assumed  a  Paderewski 
tuft,  a  rolling  collar  that  exposed  the  points  of  his 
right  and'  left  clavicles,  a  Windsor  tie,  and,  to  pre 
serve  the  unity  of  his  characterization,  a  slight 
nondescript  foreign  accent,  despite  the  circum 
stance  that  he  was  born  in  Newark,  N.  J.  All 
this,  however,  was  not  an  idle  pose  on  Felix's  part. 
He  merely  applied  to  a  dry-goods  store  the  business 
principles  of  the  successful  virtuoso,  and  he  had 
found  them  so  efficacious  that  personally  he  sold 


ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

more  garments  than  any  six  of  his  clerks.  He  was 
no  less  astute  in  the  buying  end  of  the  business; 
for  in  pitting  Sammet  Brothers,  Klinger  &  Klein, 
and  Potash  &  Perlmutter  against  one  another  he 
not  only  secured  better  terms  of  credit,  but  he 
found  that  it  materially  added  to  the  quality  of 
their  garments. 

Thus,  had  Abe  but  known  it,  his  seven-hundred- 
and-fifty-dollar  order  proceeded  not  from  the  gift 
of  the  violin,  but  from  the  circumstance  that  the 
velvet  suits  had  sold  like  hot  cakes;  and  when  he 
entered  the  Hundred  and  Twenty-fifth  Street  store 
that  afternoon  Felix  greeted  him  effusively.  He 
wanted  that  second  order  badly,  and  if  cordiality 
could  accelerate  its  shipment  he  was  willing  to  try 
it  with  Abe. 

"Ah,  mon  ami"  he  cried.  "Come  inside  my 
office.  What  good  wind  blows  you  here?" 

Abe  scowled.  All  this  enthusiasm  betokened 
but  one  thing  —  the  violin  was  a  genuine  Amati, 
after  all.  He  sat  down  slowly  and  bit  the  end  off 
a  large  cigar. 

"The  fact  is,  Felix,"  he  began,  "for  myself  I 
don't  care,  y 'understand,  but  you  know  Mawruss 
Perlmutter,  what  a  crank  that  feller  is,  Felix;  and 
so  I  am  coming  up  here  to  ask  you  something  for 
a  question." 

"Fire  away,  Abe;  you  couldn't  feaze  me  none," 
Felix  replied  in  the  accents  of  Newark,  N.  J. 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.   GEIGERMANN    219 

"Well,  Felix,  it's  like  this,"  Abe  went  on:  "If 
we  would  be  selling  goods  to  J.  B.  Morgan,  y 'under 
stand,  and  Mawruss  here  he  is  buying  for  eight 
dollars  a  fur  overcoat  —  understand  me  —  he  right 
away  would  want  another  statement." 

Felix  nodded.  "Nowadays  you  can't  be  too 
cautious,"  he  agreed. 

"So,  this  morning,  in  the  paper,"  Abe  continued, 
"  Mawruss  reads  you  are  buying  for  three  thousand 
dollars  a  fiddle  and " 

"But,  Abe,"  Felix  interrupted,  "it  was  a  genuine 
Amati." 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Abe  said;  "but  yesterday  I 
myself  am  bringing  you  a  genu-ine  Amati  and  I 
didn't  pay  no  such  figure  for  it." 

Felix  looked  carefully  at  Abe's  stolid  face  for 
some  gleam  of  humour;  and  then  he  broke  into  a  fit 
of  laughter  so  violent  that  Abe  suspected  it  to  be  a 
trifle  forced. 

"All  right,  Felix,"  he  grumbled;  "maybe  you  think 
it  is  a  joke,  but  just  the  same  I  am  telling  you  I 
paid  for  that  fiddle  only  two  hundred  dollars." 

Felix  stopped  laughing  and  wiped  his  eyes. 

"Well,  I'm  sorry,  Abe,"  he  said  seriously.  "A 
feller  should  never  look  a  gift  horse  in  the  teeth, 
Abe;  but  that  fiddle  ain't  worth  a  cent  more  than 
a  hundred  at  the  outside." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  it  ain't  a  genu-ine  Amati?" 
Abe  asked  angrily. 


220  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

"Why,  I  don't  mean  to  say  anything,  Abe," 
Felix  began;  "but  there  are  Amatis  and  Amatis. 
Some  of  them  are  worth  little  fortunes  and  others 
are  very  ordinary-like." 

"Say,  lookyhere,  Felix,"  Abe  cried,  "don't  fool 
with  me.  Either  that  fiddle  is  or  it  ain't  a  genu-ine 
Amati.  Ain't  it?" 

Felix  paused.  He  wanted  those  velvet  suits 
badly,  and  it  began  to  look  as  though  there  would 
be  a  delay  in  the  shipment. 

"What  is  all  this  leading  to,  Abe?"  he  began 
pleasantly.  "If  there's  anything  troubling  you 
speak  right  up  and  I'll  try  to  straighten  it  out." 

Abe  shifted  his  cigar  in  his  mouth  and  made  the 
plunge. 

"What  is  the  use  beating  bushes  around,  Felix?" 
he  said.  "Yesterday  I  am  giving  you  a  fiddle, 
ain't  it?  Inside  it  says  the  fiddle  is  a  genu-ine 
Amati.  What?  Schon  gut  if  that  fiddle  is  a  genu 
ine  Amati  it  is  worth  three  thousand  dollars,  ain't 
it?  Because  if  it  ain't,  then  you  are  stuck  with  the 
other  fiddle  which  you  bought  it.  And  if  it  is  worth 
three  thousand,  then  we  are  stuck  by  giving  you 
the  fiddle,  ain't  it?  So  that's  the  way  it  goes." 

Felix  nodded.  It  was  a  delicate  situation,  in 
which  his  credit  and  the  shipment  of  the  suits  seemed 
to  be  imperilled.  To  declare  flatly  that  Abe's 
gift  was  a  bogus  Amati  might  offend  him  seriously, 
while  to  admit  that  it  was  genuine,  but  only  worth 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.   GEIGERMANN    221 

one  hundred  dollars,  was  to  foster  Abe's  notion 
that  he,  Felix,  had  wasted  three  thousand  dollars 
on  a  similar  violin. 

"I  want  to  tell  you  something,  Abe,"  he  began 
at  last.  "There's  nothing  to  this  business  of  selling 
goods  by  making  presents,  and  I  for  one  don't 
believe  in  it.  So  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do.  Come 
up  here  to  the  store  to-morrow  morning,  and  I'll 
get  the  fiddle  from  my  house  and  give  it  back  to 
you." 

Abe's  scowl  merged  immediately  into  a  wide 
grin. 

"I  don't  want  the  fiddle  back,  Felix,"  he  said, 
"but  my  partner,  y 'understand,  he  is  the  one  which 
is  always " 

"Say  no  more,  Abe,"  Felix  cried.  "All  I  want 
is  you  should  ship  that  order;  and  tell  your  partner, 
if  he  is  scared  I  am  spending  my  money  foolishly, 
he  can  have  a  new  statement  whenever  he  wants  it; 
and  I'll  swear  to  it  on  a  truckload  of  Bibles." 

When  Abe  returned  to  his  place  of  business  that 
afternoon  he  expected  to  find  Morris  pacing  up  and 
down  the  showroom  floor,  the  picture  of  distracted 
anxiety.  Instead  he  was  humming  a  cheerful 
melody  as  he  piled  up  two-piece  velvet  suits. 

"Well,  Abe,"  he  said,  "you  have  went  on  a  fool's 
errand,  ain't  it?" 

"What  d'ye  mean,  fool's  errand?"  Abe  demanded. 

"Why,  I  mean  I  knew  all  along  that  fiddle  of 


222  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

yours  was  a  fake;  and  anyhow,  Abe,  I  seen  Milton 
Strauss,  of  Klipmann,  Strauss  &  Bleimer,  and  what 
d'ye  suppose  he  told  it  me,  Abe?" 

Abe  shrugged   angrily. 

"If  you  must  got  to  get  it  off  your  chest  before  I 
tell  you  what  Geigermann  told  to  me,  Mawruss," 
he  said,  "go  ahead." 

"Well,  I  seen  Milton  Strauss,  Abe,"  Morris  went 
on  calmly,  "and  he  says  to  me  that  he  knows  for  a 
positive  fact  that  Felix  Geigermann  could  have  sold 
that  fiddle  of  his  for  three  thousand  five  hundred 
dollars  before  he  even  pays  for  it  yet.  Strauss 
says  that  Felix  is  all  the  time  buying  up  old  fiddles 
for  a  side  line,  and  if  he  makes  a  cent  at  it  he  makes 
a  couple  thousand  dollars  a  year.  Furthermore, 
Abe,  he  says  that  if  anybody's  got  a  genu-ine 
who's-this  fiddle,  he  wouldn't  let  it  go  for  no  hun 
dred  and  twenty-five  dollars,  and  the  chances  is 
you  are  paying  a  fancy  figure  for  a  cheap  popular- 
price  line  of  fiddles." 

Abe  hung  up  his  hat  so  violently  that  he  nearly 
knocked  a  hole  in  the  crown. 

"In  the  first  place,  Mawruss,"  he  began,  "it 
was  your  idee  I  should  go  up  there  and  get  the  fiddle 
back,  and  in  the  second  place  I  am  telling  you  with 
my  own  eyes  I  seen  that  fiddle  and  it  is  the  self 
same,  identical  article  —  name,  lot  number  and 
everything  —  which  that  feller  Geigermann  refuses 
thirty-five  hundred  dollars  for." 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.   GEIGERMANN    223 

He  scowled  at  his  partner  in  anticipation  of  a 
cutting  rejoinder. 

"But  anyhow,  that  ain't  neither  here  nor  there," 
he  continued  as  Morris  remained  silent.  "We 
would  quick  find  out  for  ourselves  what  the  fiddle 
really  is,  because  to-morrow  morning  I  am  going 
around  to  the  store  and  Geigermann  gives  me  the 
fiddle  back." 

Morris  paused  in  the  folding  of  a  velvet  skirt. 

"  I  wouldn't  do  that,  Abe,  if  I  was  you,"  he  said. 
"What  is  the  use  giving  presents  and  taking  'em 
back  again?  You  could  make  from  a  feller  an 
enemy  for  life  that  way." 

"Sure,  I  know  Mawruss.  An  enemy  for  life 
is  one  thing,  Mawruss,  but  thirty-five  hundred 
dollars  ain't  to  be  sniffed  at  neither,  y'understand." 

"Schmooes,  Abe!"  Morris  cired.  "The  fiddle 
ain't  worth  even  thirty-five  hundred  pins." 

Following  this  observation  there  ensued  a  con 
troversy  of  over  an  hour's  duration,  at  the  end 
of  which  Morris  compromised. 

"Say,  listen  here  to  me,  Abe!"  he  declared. 
"You  say  the  fiddle  is  worth  it  and  I  say  it  ain't. 
Now  if  I  am  right  and  we  take  the  fiddle  back,  then 
we  are  acting  like  a  couple  of  cheap  yokels,  ain't  it? 
Aber  if  you  are  right,  Abe,  then  we  are  out  thirty- 
five  hundred  dollars.  So  what's  the  use  talking, 
Abe?  Only  one  thing  we  got  to  do.  We  got  to 
find  a  feller  which  he  could  right  away  tell  whether 


224  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

the  fiddle  is  oder  not  is  genu-ine  —  just  by  looking 
at  it,  y 'understand.  This  feller  we  got  to  send  up 
to  Geigermann's  house  to  look  at  the  fiddle  to-night 
yet,  and  if  he  says  the  fiddle  is,  Abe,  then  we  would 
take  it  back.  Aber  if  he  says  the  fiddle  ain't,  Abe, 
then,  Geigermann  could  keep  the  fiddle  und  fertig" 

Abe  nodded  slowly. 

"The  idee  is  all  right,  Mawruss,"  he  said;  "but 
in  the  first  place,  Mawruss,  where  could  we  find 
such  a  feller,  and  in  the  second  place,  if  we  did 
found  him,  Mawruss,  what  excuse  would  we  give 
Geigermann  for  sending  him  up  there  in  the  third 
place?" 

Morris  scratched  his  head. 

"Well,  for  that  matter,  Abe,  if  we  found  such  a 
feller,  we  could  send  him  up  there  to  say  that  he 
hears  from  you  that  you  are  giving  away  such  a 
Who's-this  fiddle  to  Geigermann,  and  that  the 
feller  would  like  to  buy  it  off  of  him." 

"And  then,  Mawruss?"  Abe  asked. 

"And  then,"  Morris  went  on,  "Geigermann 
shows  the  feller  the  fiddle,  y'understand,  and  if  it 
is  worth  it  oder  it  isn't  worth  it  the  feller  says  noth 
ing  to  Geigermann,  but  he  comes  back  and  reports 
to  us." 

Abe   nodded   again. 

"If  I  was  to  tell  you  all  the  weak  points  of  that 
scheme,  Mawruss,"  he  said,  "I  could  stand  here 
talking  till  my  tongue  dropped  out  yet.  But  all 


A  PRESENT   FOR   MR.   GEIGERMANN    225 

I  got  to  say  is,  Mawruss,  the  idee  is  yours,  and  you 
should  go  ahead  and  carry  it  out.  Me,  I  got  nothing 
to  say  about  it  either  one  way  or  the  other." 

At  seven  that  evening,  while  Professor  Ladislaw 
Wcelak  was  washing  down  a  late  breakfast  with  a 
bottle  of  beer,  there  came  a  violent  knocking  at 
the  hall  door.  The  professor  answered  it  in  person, 
for  Aaron  was  busily  engaged  over  Concone's 
vocalizations  in  the  front  parlour  and  the  other 
members  of  the  family  were  washing  dishes  in 
the  rear. 

" Nu,  Landsmann!"  Ladislaw  cried.  "Ain't  you 
working  to-night?" 

The  newcomer  was  none  other  than  Emil  Pilz, 
Konzertmeister  of  the  Palace  Theatre  of  Varieties, 
if  that  dignified  term  may  be  applied  to  the  first 
violin  of  an  orchestra  of  twenty. 

"I  am  and  I  ain't,"  Emil  replied.  "I've  got  a 
job,  Louis,  which  it  would  take  me  till  nine  o'clock, 
so  be  a  good  feller  and  substitute  for  me  at  the 
theayters  till  I  am  coming  back." 

"And  who  would  substitute  for  me,  Emil?"  the 
professor  asked. 

"That's  all  right,"  Emil  replied.  "I  stopped  in 
on  my  way  over  and  I  seen  old  man  Hubai.  He 
ain't  shikker  yet,  so  I  told  him  he  should  go  over  and 
fiddle  a  couple  czardas  till  you  come,  and  to  tell  the 
boss  you  got  a  Magenweh  and  would  be  a  little  late. 


226  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Me,  I  am  going  uptown  to  look  at  a  fiddle.  I  got 
the  job  through  an  old  pupil,  Milton  Strauss,  which 
he  says  a  feller  by  the  name  Potash  gives  away  a 
fiddle  which  he  bought,  and  now  he  thinks  it's  a 
genuine  Amati.  So  I  should  please  go  up  and  look 
at  it;  and  if  it  is  oder  it  isn't,  I  get  ten  dollars." 

"Who's  this  feller  Potash?"  the  professor  asked, 
and  Emil  shrugged. 

"What  difference  does  that  make?"  he  said. 
"He  gives  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars  for 
the  fiddle  only  a  couple  days  ago.  What  d'ye  want 
to  know  for?" 

"Oh,  nothing,"  the  professor  replied;  "only  my 
brother  Aaron  sold  to  a  feller  by  the  name  Potash 
the  other  day  a  fiddle  which  I  myself  bought  from 
old  Hubai  a  couple  years  ago  for  fifteen  dollars  yet; 
and  if  that's  the  one  you  are  talking  about,  Emil, 
you  should  quick  go  up  to  the  theayter  and  forget 
about  it.  Because,  Emil,  if  that  fiddle  is  an  Amati, 
you  are  a  Kubelik  and  I  am  a  Kreisler." 

"Sure,  I  know,  Louis,"  Emil  agreed;  "but  just 
the  same  I  got  to  go  up  there  to  make  the  ten,  so  if 
you  would  do  me  the  favour  and  spiel  for  me  till 
half-past  nine  you  could  get  anyhow  three  dollars 
of  it." 

"I  am  willing,"  the  professor  said;  and  ten  min 
utes  later  he  was  on  his  way  up  to  the  Palace  Theatre 
of  Varieties. 

It  was  precisely  half-past  nine,  while  a  tabloid 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.  GEIGERMANN  227 

drama  in  progress  on  the  stage  rendered  the  pres 
ence  of  the  orchestra  unnecessary,  that  Emil  Pilz 
returned. 

"Nu  Emil,"  Louis  said  as  they  stood  in  the  cor 
ridor  leading  to  the  stage  entrance,  "did  you  seen 
the  Amati?" 

He  grinned  in  humorous  anticipation  of  Emil's 
answer. 

"Yes,  I  did  seen  it,"  Emil  replied,  "and  it's  a 
very  elegant,  grand  model." 

"Sure,"  the  professor  said;  "made  in  Bavaria 
with  an  ax." 

"Don't  you  fool  yourself,  Louis,"  Emil  retorted. 
"That's  an  elegant  instrument  from  Nicolo  Amati's 
best  period.  If  it's  worth  a  cent  it's  worth  three 
thousand  dollars." 

"Schmooes,  Emil!"  Louis  cried.  "What  are 
you  trying  to  do?  —  kid  me?" 

"What  d'ye  mean,  kid  you?"  Emil  asked.  "I 
should  never  stir  from  this  spot,  Louis,  if  that  ain't 
an  Amati.  It's  got  a  tone  like  gold,  Louis." 

For  a  brief  interval  Louis  stared  at  his  informant. 

"Do  you  mean  to  told  me,  Emil,  that  that  fiddle 
is  a  real,  genu-ine  Amati?" 

"Listen  here  to  me,  Louis,"  Emil  declared;  "if 
I  wouldn't  be  sure  that  it  was  genu-ine  why  should 
I  got  such  a  heart  that  I  would  act  that  way  to  that 
feller  Potash?  When  —  so  sure  as  you  are  standing 
there,  Louis  —  when  I  told  him  it  was  a  genu-ine 


228  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

Amati  he  pretty  near  got  a  fit  already;  and  as  for 
his  partner  by  the  name  Perlmutter,  he  hollered  so 
I  thought  he  was  going  to  spit  blood  already." 

Louis  licked  his  dry  lips  before  making  any  reply. 

"  So,  then,  I  am  paying  fifteen  dollars  for  a  fiddle 
which  it  is  a  genu-ine  Amati,"  he  said,  "and  that 
brother  of  mine  which  he  ain't  got  no  more  sense 
as  a  lunatic  lets  it  go  for  a  song  already." 

"Well,  I  couldn't  stop  to  talk  to  you  now, 
Louis,"  Emil  said.  "I  must  got  to  get  on  the  job. 
I  am  going  to  be  to-morrow  morning,  ten  o'clock, 
at  this  here  Potash  &  Perlmutter's,  and  if  you 
want  to  you  could  meet  me  there  with  old  man 
Hubai." 

"Old  man  Hubai!"  Louis  cried.  "What's  he 
got  to  do  with  it?" 

"He's  got  a  whole  lot  to  do  with  it,  Louis,"  Emil 
said.  "A  feller  like  him  sells  you  a  three-thousand- 
dollar  violin  for  fifteen  dollars  which  he  ain't  got 
a  penny  in  the  world,  y 'understand,  and  I  should 
stand  by  and  see  him  get  done!" 

Professor  Wcelak  hung  his  head  and  blushed. 

"Also,  Louis,"  Emil  concluded,  "I  just  rung  him 
up  at  the  cafe,  and  he  says  whatever  he  gets  out  of 
it  I  get  half." 

When  Morris  Perlmutter  arrived  at  Felix  Geiger- 
mann's  store  the  next  morning  he  showed  the  effects 
of  a  restless  night  and  no  breakfast;  for  he  had  found 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.   GEIGERMANN  229 

it  impossible  either  to  eat  or  sleep  until  he  had  his 
hands  on  the  violin. 

"Mr.  Geigermann  went  out  for  a  minute,  Mr. 
Potash,"  a  floorwalker  explained;  "but  he  said  I 
should  show  you  right  into  his  office,  Mr.  Potash." 

"My  name  ain't  Potash,"  Morris  replied,  "that's 
my  partner,  which  he  couldn't  get  up  here  on  account 
he  is  sick." 

"That's  all  right,"  the  floorwalker  said  reas 
suringly.  "Just  step  this  way." 

He  conducted  Morris  to  Geigermann's  office. 

"Have  a  seat,  Mr.  Perlmutter,"  he  said;  but  the 
words  fell  on  deaf  ears,  for  as  soon  as  he  entered  the 
room  Morris  descried  the  violin,  which  rested  on 
top  of  Geigermann's  desk.  He  pounced  on  it 
immediately,  and  turning  it  over  in  his  hand  he 
examined  it  with  the  minutest  care.  At  length 
he  discerned  the  label  inside  the  "eff"  hole.  It 
was  curling  away  from  the  wood  and  appeared  to 
be  ready  to  drop  off,  so  that  it  was  an  easy  matter 
for  Morris  to  impale  it  on  his  scarfpin.  By  dint 
of  a  little  scraping  he  managed  to  draw  one  edge  of 
it  through  the  "eff"  hole  and  the  next  moment  he 
was  examining  the  faded  printing.  Then  he  turned 
the  label  over  and  in  one  corner  he  discovered  an 
oval  mark.  Simultaneously  the  door  evened  and 
Geigermann  entered. 

Morris  thrust  the  label  into  his  pocket  and 
turned  to  Geigermann  with  an  amiable  smile. 


230  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Moreover,  his  pallor  had  given  place  to  a  pro 
nounced  flush  and  he  looked  nearly  five  years 
younger  than  when  he  walked  into  the  store  just 
ten  minutes  before. 

"Hello,  Felix!"  he  cried,  holding  out  his  hand. 
"How's  the  boy?" 

"Fine,"   Felix   said.     "Where's  Abe?" 

"He  couldn't  get  here  on  account  he  is  sitting  up 
late  again  last  night,  and,  of  course,  Felix,  he  is  sick. 
But  anyhow,  Felix,  I  am  glad  he  ain't  coming." 

"Why  so?"  Felix  asked. 

"Because  you  never  seen  such  a  feller  in  your 
life,  Felix,"  Morris  went  on.  "Always  worrying 
and  always  kicking.  First  he  gives  you  a  fiddle, 
then  he  wants  to  take  it  back  again.  With  me  it  is 
different.  What  do  I  care  if  the  fiddle  is  or  it  ain't 
one  of  them  genu-ine  Who's  This's?  Once  you  give 
a  thing  you  give  a  thing,  ain't  it?  And  I  don't 
care  what  experts  says  nor  nothing." 

Felix  Geigermann  blushed.  When  Emil  Pilz 
had  called  on  him  the  night  before  he  had  scented 
the  object  of  the  visit  and  had  exhibited  not  Abe's 
gift  but  the  Karanyi  Amati.  He  had  no  doubt 
that  Pilz  communicated  to  Potash  &  Perlmutter 
the  result  of  his  call  immediately  after  its  con 
clusion,  and  he  felt  touched  and  humbled  by  Morris's 
generous  behaviour. 

"Morris,"  he  said,  "I  did  you  a  big  injury.  I 
didn't  think  you  felt  that  way  about  it;  so  when 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.  GEIGERMANN  231 

that  expert  called  on  me  last  night  I  didn't  show  him 
Abe's  fiddle  at  all  —  I  showed  him  the  other  one, 
the  three-thousand-dollar  fiddle." 

Morris's  grin  became  a  trifle  broader. 

"That  don't  worry  me  none,  Felix,"  he  declared. 
"I  am  glad  you  should  keep  the  fiddle  if  it  should 
be  worth  ten  thousand  dollars  even.  A  gift  is  a 
gift,  Felix." 

"That's  very  generous  of  you,  Morris,  I  must 
say,"  Felix  replied,  "and  I  would  keep  the  violin. 
I  would  even  do  more,  Morris.  I  was  going  to 
give  Klinger  &  Klein  an  order  for  some  of  their 
three-piece  broadcloths,  but  I  changed  my  mind. 
I  will  give  it  to  you  instead;  and  if  you  would  be 
in  this  afternoon,  Morris,  I  will  go  downtown  and 
pick  'em  out." 

Once  more  Morris  wrung  his  customer's  hand. 
Before  proceeding  downtown,  he  sought  the  nearest 
dairy  restaurant  and  made  tremendous  inroads 
upon  its  stock  of  eggs  and  coffee.  It  was  almost 
ten  o'clock  before  he  reached  his  place  of  business, 
and  as  he  stepped  out  of  the  elevator  he  was  greeted 
by  a  roar  of  voices  approximating  the  effect  of  a 
well-managed  mob  scene  in  a  capital-and-labour 
drama. 

Old  man  Hubai  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  show 
room;  and  with  clenched  fists  waving  in  the  air  he 
appealed  to  heaven  to  witness  that  he  was  a  poor 
man  and  spoke  nothing  but  the  Hungarian  tongue. 


232  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Hence  he  was  at  the  mercy  of  such  ruffians  as  Pilz 
and  Wcelak,  whose  right  name  he  averred  to  be 
Kohn.  Following  this  he  swore  by  his  mother 
that  he  had  paid  a  thousand  kronen  for  the  violin, 
and  da  capo  from  the  exposition  of  his  poverty. 
Simultaneously  Professor  Ladislaw  Wcelak  dwelt 
on  the  economic  aspect  of  the  matter.  In  sten 
torian  tones  he  declared  Abe's  purchase  of  the  violin 
to  be  another  example  of  capital  sitting  upon  the 
neck  of  labour,  and  he  prophesied  the  rapid  approach 
of  the  Social  Revolution,  with  sundry  references  to 
bloodsuckers,  cut-throats  and  Philistines. 

Emil  Pilz,  Aaron,  and  Abe  Potash  himself  added 
to  the  general  din  in  a  three-cornered  discussion  of 
the  legal  points  involved.  Emil  contended  that 
Aaron  could  replevin  the  violin  upon  the  ground 
of  Abe's  misrepresentation  at  the  time  of  the  pur 
chase,  and  Abe  denied  it  in  Yiddish  and  English, 
with  emphatic  profanity  in  both  languages. 

Into  this  melee  Morris  hurled  himself  with  a 
resounding  "KoosHF* 

"Are  you  all  crazy,  oder  what?"  he  demanded. 

"Well,"  Abe  cried,  "where  is  it?" 

Instantly  there  was  a  dead  silence  and  all  eyes 
rested  on  Morris. 

"Where's  what?"  Morris  asked. 

"The  Amati!"  Emil  Pilz  cried;  and  Morris 
laughed  aloud. 

"Geh  weg!"  he  said.     "You  are  an  expert!" 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.  GEIGERMANN  233 

Pilz  shook  his  head  in  a  bullying  fashion. 

"Never  mind  if  I  am  an  expert  oder  not,"  he 
said.  "Where  is  that  Amati  which  I  seen  it  myself 
at  Geigermann's  house  only  last  night?" 

"It  is  at  Geigermann's  house  to-day,"  Morris 
replied.  "Right  now  it  is  there  and  it  would  stay 
there  too,  young  feller,  because  that  fiddle  which 
you  seen  it  is  the  one  Geigermann  paid  three  thou 
sand  dollars  for.  You  seen  the  wrong  fiddle,  that's 
all." 

This  statement  seemed  to  rouse  Aaron  Shellak 
to  hysterical  frenzy. 

"Liar  and  thief!"  he  screamed.  "Give  me  my 
fiddle." 

"One  moment,  Shellak,"  Morris  said,  "before 
you  put  on  your  hat  and  coat  and  go  home,  which 
you  shouldn't  trouble  yourself  to  come  back  at  all. 
I  want  to  show  you  something." 

He  explored  his  waistcoat  pocket. 

"Ain't  this  the  label  which  was  in  your  fiddle?" 
he  asked,  handing  Aaron  a  slip  of  paper. 

Aaron    examined    it   carefully    and    nodded. 

"That  other  crazy  Indian  over  there,"  Morris 
continued,  pointing  to  the  professor,  "look  at  this 
label.  Ain't  it  the  same  which  was  in  the  fiddle?" 

Ladislaw  Wcelak  examined  the  printed  slip  and 
he,  too,  nodded. 

Next,  Morris  turned  to  old  man  Hubai,  who  stood 
apart  muttering  to  himself. 


234  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Some  one  ask  that  old  greenhorn  if  it's  the  same 
label  that  was  in  the  fiddle.  I  don't  know  what  he's 
got  to  do  with  this  business  but  he  may  know, 
anyhow." 

Wcelak  interpreted  Morris's  words  and  showed 
the  label  to  the  old  man,  who  replied  volubly  in 
Hungarian. 

"He  says  he  thinks  it  it,"  the  professor  said,  "but 
he  doesn't  know  for  sure." 

"Well,  I  know  it  is  the  same,"  Morris  retorted, 
"because  I  took  it  out  there  myself  this  morning." 

Here  Morris  cleared  his  throat  and  assumed  an 
air  of  such  dignity,  not  to  say  majesty,  that  to 
Abe,  it  seemed  as  though  he  had  never  rightly  known 
his  partner  until  that  moment. 

"Now  look  on  the  other  side  of  that  label," 
Morris  cried. 

Once  more  the  label  went  the  rounds  and  after 
Emil  Pilz  had  examined  it  he  put  on  his  hat  and 
made  for  the  elevator.  Almost  on  tiptoe  Professor 
Ladislaw  Wcelak  followed  him,  while  Aaron  re 
paired  to  the  cutting  room  and  packed  up  his  belong 
ings,  preparatory  to  forsaking  a  career  as  cutter 
for  one  of  music. 

At  length  only  old  man  Hubai  remained. 

"What  are  you  waiting  for?"  Morris  demanded. 

"Me  poor  man,"  Hubai  said.  "Me  no  got  car 
fare,  me  no  got  Tr  ink  geld,  me  no  got  nothing." 

Morris  handed  him  a  quarter  and  he  shuffled  off 


A  PRESENT  FOR  MR.   GEIGERMANN  235 

toward  the  backstairs.  Meantime  Abe  staggered 
to  his  feet  and  passed  his  hand  over  his  forehead. 

"Tell  me,  Mawruss,"  he  said,  "what  is  all  this 
about?" 

"It's  just  what  I  says  just  now,  Abe,"  Morris 
exploded.  "That  expert  seen  the  wrong  fiddle. 
The  fiddle  you  gave  Geigermann  is  no  more  three 
hundred  years  old  than  I  am." 

"Why  ain't  it?"  Abe  asked. 

For  answer  Morris  handed  him  the  label.  On  the 
obverse  side  Abe  read  the  inscription: 

Nicolaus  Amati  Cremonensis  Faciebai  Anno  1670, 

"Now  turn  it  over,"  Morris  said;  and  Abe  de 
scribed  on  the  reverse  side  a  familiar  oval  mark 
bearing  the  following  inscription: 

Allied  Printers  Trades  Council,  Union  Label,  New  York  City* 


CHAPTER  SEVEN 
BROTHERS  ALL 

WAT  is  the  use  talking,  Mawruss?"  Abe 
3otash  protested.  "The  feller  couldn't 
even  talk  ten  words  English  at  all." 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Morris  Perlmutter  admitted; 
"but  he  would  quick  learn." 

"Quick  learn!"  Abe  exclaimed.  "What  d'ye 
mean,  quick  learn  ?  Nowadays  I  never  seen  the  like ! 
A  greenhorn  comes  over  here  from  Russland  which 
he  is  such  an  iggeramus  he  don't  know  his  own  name, 
understand  me;  and  he  expects  right  away  to  get 
a  job  in  a  cloak-and-suit  concern  uptown,  where 
they  would  learn  him  how  he  should  talk  English  and 
at  the  same  time  pay  him  ten  dollars  a  week.  Act 
ually,  Mawruss,  them  fellers  thinks  they  are  doing 
you  a  favour  if  they  ruin  ten  garments  a  day  on  you 
in  exchange  for  learning  'em  English.  Me,  when  I 
come  over  from  Russland,  I  was  oser  so  grossartig. 
I  was  glad  to  got  a  job  learning  on  shirts  in  a  sub- 
cellar  and  the  boss  boards  me  for  wages.  I  got  an 
elegant  bill  of  fare,  too,  I  bet  yer,  Mawruss.  Every 
day  for  dinner  is  salt  herring  and  potatoes,  except 

236 


BROTHERS  ALL  237 

Sundays  is  onions  extra.  And  did  that  feller  learn 
me  English,  Mawruss?  Oser  a  stuck.  I  must  got 
to  go  to  night  school  to  learn  English,  Mawruss,  and 
I  did,  Mawruss  —  and  they  learned  me  good  there, 
Mawruss;  and  so  this  here  feller  you  are  talking 
about  should  do  the  same." 

"We  wouldn't  got  to  learn  him  English,  Abe," 
Morris  declared.  "The  feller  is  a  bright,  smart 
feller,  and  he  could  pick  it  up  quick  enough." 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Abe  rejoined;  "and  pick  up  a 
whole  lot  of  other  things,  too,  Mawruss.  Silks  and 
velvets  and  buttons  them  fellers  picks  up." 

"Not  this  feller,  Abe,"  Morris  said.  "He  is 
from  decent,  respectable  people  in  the  old  country. 
He  is  studying  for  a  doctor  already  when  he  comes 
over  here,  but  he  gets  into  trouble  on  account  he 
belongs  to  a  politics  society  over  there;  so  he  must 
got  to  run  away.  The  feller  is  a  bright  feller, 
Abe." 

"I  know  them  bright  fellers,  Mawruss  —  sit  up 
till  all  hours  -of  the  night  in  Canal  Street  coffee 
houses  killing  off  grand  dukes.  Grand  dukes  is  got 
to  make  a  living  the  same  like  anybody  else,  Maw 
russ;  and  anyhow,  Mawruss,  when  a  feller  comes  over 
here  from  Russland,  Mawruss,  he  ain't  got  no  busi 
ness  bothering  his  head  about  grand  dukes.  The 
way  things  is  nowadays  in  the  cloak-and-suit  trade, 
Mawruss,  a  feller's  got  all  he  could  attend  to  holding 
on  to  his  job." 


238  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Morris  shrugged.^ 

"Let's  give  the  feller  a  show  anyhow,  Abe,"  he 
rejoined;  "and  if  he  don't  soon  make  good  we  could 
quick  fire  him,  y 'understand." 

"That's  what  you  said  about  that  feller  Harkavy, 
which  we  give  him  a  job  in  our  cutting  room,  Maw- 
russ.  All  the  time  he  works  for  us  he  acts  so  dumm 
like  a  ten-year-old  child;  and  so  soon  as  we  fire  him, 
Mawruss,  he  goes  to  work  by  Kleiman  &  Elenbogen 
and  turns  out  a  couple  of  styles,  which  the  least 
them  highwaymen  makes  out  of  'em  is  five  thousand 
dollars." 

"How  shou.d  I  know  what  Harkavy  could  do  with 
Kleiman  &  Elenbogen,  Abe?"  Morris  cried.  "You 
are  the  prophet  of  this  here  concern,  Abe.  Always 
you  are  predicting  to  me  to-morrow  what  is  going  to 
happen  yesterday." 

"Well,  what's  vorbei  is  vorbei,  Mawruss,"  Abe 
retorted;  "and  if  I  would  got  to  stand  here  all  day 
and  schmooes  with  you,  Mawruss,  go  ahead  and  hire 
the  feller.  Only  one  thing  I  am  saying  to  you,  Maw 
russ:  Don't  tell  me  afterward  that  I  was  in  favour 
of  the  feller  from  the  start;  because  I  ain't." 

With  this  ultimatum,  Abe  glanced  toward  the 
cutting  room,  where  sat  a  tall,  stooping  figure,  hold 
ing  in  his  two  hands  a  peaked  cap. 

"Only  to  look  at  the  feller  gives  me  a  krank,  Maw 
russ,"  Abe  continued;  "so,  if  you  are  going  to  hire 
him,  Mawruss,  do  me  the  favour  and  give  him  a 


BROTHERS  ALL  239 

couple  dollars  out  of  the  safe  so  he  should  get  a  shave 
and  a  haircut  and  a  new  hat." 

Morris  nodded  and  started  for  the  cutting  room, 
when  Abe  called  him  back. 

"For  my  part,  Mawruss,  I  don't  care  what  people 
says,  y 'understand,"  he  declared;  "but  if  we  got 
a  couple  of  them  Thirty-fourth  Street  buyers  around 
here  and  they  sees  our  workpeople  is  got  such  shoes 
which  their  toes  is  sticking  out  already,  Mawruss, 
what  do  they  think  of  us?  Am  I  right  or  wrong?" 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Morris  said;  "but " 

"But  nothing,  Mawruss,"  Abe  concluded.  "For 
three  dollars  we  should  make  suckers  out  of  our 
selves!  Don't  stand  there  like  a  fool,  Mawruss. 
Give  the  feller  five  dollars;  he  should  buy  himself  a 
pair  of  shoes  mdfertig." 

The  transformation  begun  in  Cesar  Kovalenko 
by  a  haircut  and  a  shave  was  made  complete  when 
Morris,  accompanied  by  Kovalenko's  cousin,  went 
with  him  to  a  retail  clothing  establishment.  There 
Cesar  discarded  forever  his  cap,  top  boots  and 
frogged  overcoat  and  emerged  —  but  for  his  vocabu 
lary —  a  naturalized  citizen  of  the  cloak-and-suit 
trade. 

"Now  all  he's  got  to  do,"  Morris  said,  "is  to  work 
hard  and  he  would  quick  be  making  good  wages." 

"  Sure,  sure ! "  the  cousin  replied.  "At  first,  maybe 
he  would  be  a  little  dumm  on  account  he  is  got  a 
whole  lot  of  experiences  lately." 


24o  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

" Experiences?"  Morris  asked.  "What  for  ex 
periences?" 

"Well,  in  the  first  place,"  the  cousin  proceeded, 
"two  years  ago  he  is  studying  for  a  doctor  in  the 
University  of  Harkav,  and  next  door  to  him  one 
house  by  the  other  lives  a  feller  which  I  ain't  got 
nothing  to  say  against  him,  y 'understand,  only  he 
goes  to  work  and  sends  a  package  to  the  chief  of 
police,  Mr.  Perlmutter,  which  when  they  open  the 
package,  y'understand,  inside  is  something  g 'fixed. 
Mind  you,  Mr.  Perlmutter,  I  wouldn't  say  nothing 
if  it  would  be  really  the  chief  of  police  which  would 
open  the  package,  but  always  it  is  some  poor 
Schnorrer  which  the  chief  of  police  calls  in  from  the 
street.  This  time  it  was  a  feller  by  the  name  Levin, 
a  decent,  respectable,  young  feller  —  his  father  was 
a  Rav.  The  old  man  is  coming  over  here  this  week, 
I  understand,  Mr.  Perlmutter  —  but  when  the  chief 
of  police  sends  out  Levin  in  the  backyard  he  should 
open  the  package,  understand  me,  that's  the  last 
any  one  sees  either  from  the  package  or  either  from 
Levin." 

Morris  clicked  his  tongue  sympathetically. 

"And  what  did  they  done  to  the  feller  which  sends 
the  package?"  he  asked. 

"Him,  they  didn't  done  nothing,  Mr.  Perlmutter," 
the  cousin  replied;  "but  Cesar,  here,  they  put  it  all 
on  to  him.  First  they  are  making  him  arrested, 
and  the  police  pretty  near  kill  him  and  the  Cossacks 


BROTHERS  ALL  241 

take  him  from  Harkav  to  Odessa  he  should  get  tried, 
and  then  they  pretty  near  kill  him  there;  and  if  it 
wouldn't  be  that  we  are  sending  over  to  give  to  a 
judge  there  a  couple  thousand  rubles  they  would 
right  away  shoot  him.  Anyhow,  Mr.  Perlmutter, 
one  year  my  cousin  sits  in  prison  there;  and  then  we 
are  sending  over  a  couple  thousand  rubles  more 
which  we  give  the  feller  what  runs  the  prison,  and 
so  my  cousin  sneaks  out  of  there  and  he  comes  over 
here  to  this  country." 

Morris  gazed  at  the  neatly  clad  figure  who  walked 
quietly  along  beside  him. 

"You  wouldn't  think  it  to  look  at  him,"  he  said; 
"but,  anyhow,  I  would  do  my  best  to  see  he  gets 
a  good  show;  and  he  would  quick  learn,  I  bet  yer." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  Potash  &  Perl- 
mutter's  premises  and  the  cousin  shook  hands 
warmly  with  Morris. 

"You  got  a  good  heart,  Mr.  Perlmutter,"  he 
declared  fervently;  "and  you  wouldn't  lose  money 
supposing  you  did  pay  him  eight  dollars  a  week 


to  start." 


Morris  paused  before  passing  indoors. 

"Listen  here  to  me,"  he  said.  "Maybe  I  got  a 
good  heart  and  maybe  I  ain't,  but  your  cousin  starts 
on  five  dollars  a  week,  understand  me;  and  if  he 
gets  six  dollars  inside  of  a  month  he  would  got  to 
earn  it." 

Despite   this   assertion,    however,   it   was   barely 


242  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

three  weeks  before  Cesar  Kovalenko  was  earning 
and  receiving  eight  dollars  a  week,  for  never  in  their 
business  experience  had  Abe  and  Morris  employed 
a  more  intelligent  workman.  Not  only  did  he  ex 
hibit  great  promise  as  an  assistant  cutter  but  he  had 
acquired  a  knowledge  of  English  sufficient  for  his 
needs. 

"If  the  feller  keeps  on,  Abe,"  Morris  said,  "we 
would  soon  got  to  give  him  another  raise.  He's  a 
wonder!" 

Abe  nodded  gloomily. 

"You  could  get  all  the  wonders  you  want,  Maw- 
russ,  to  learn  cutting  at  eight  dollars  a  week,"  he 
said;  "and  supposing  he  does  pick  up  English  quick, 
Mawruss  —  a  feller  could  be  a  regular  Henry  Shake 
speare,  y 'understand,  and  he  wouldn't  be  any  better 
as  a  garment  cutter  on  that  account.  Am  I  right 
or  wrong?" 

"Well,  certainly  it  don't  do  no  harm  that  Ko 
valenko  understands  a  little  English,"  Morris 
commented. 

"Sure  not,"  Abe  agreed  satirically,  "because  the 
quicker  he  learns  English,  Mawruss,  the  quicker  he 
would  copy  our  styles  and  find  a  job  with  a  com 
petitor.  Take  this  here  Harkavy,  for  instance. 
Only  this  morning  I  seen  Felix  Geigermann  in  the 
subway  and  he  says  that  Kleiman  &  Elenbogen  is 
showing,  at  a  dollar  less  on  the  garment,  a  ringer  for 
our  Style  4022  which  we  sold  him,  Mawruss.  Now, 


BROTHERS  ALL  243 

who  tells  them  suckers  how  they  could  cut  down 
on  the  buttons  and  the  lining,  Mawruss,  and  put  one 
pleat  less  in  the  skirt,  Mawruss?  I  suppose  you  did 
or  I  did,  Mawruss  —  ain't  it?" 

He  paused  for  a  reply,  but  none  came. 

"And  yet,  Mawruss,"  he  concluded,  "that  feller 
Harkavy  was  a  wonder  too;  and  I  suppose,  Mawruss, 
the  way  he  picked  up  English  would  be  a  big  con 
solation  to  us,  Mawruss,  if  a  good  customer  like 
Geigermann  leaves  us  and  goes  over  to  Kleiman  & 
Elenbogen." 

Morris  grunted  scornfully. 

"You  are  all  the  time  looking  for  trouble,  Abe," 
he  said.  "If  we  would  lose  as  many  customers  as 
you  are  talking  about,  Abe,  we  wouldn't  got  a  decent 
concern  left  on  our  books  at  all.  You  got  to  give 
Geigermann  credit  for  knowing  a  good  garment  when 
he  sees  it." 

"Sure,  I  know,  Mawruss,"  Abe  replied.  "Gei 
germann  knows  a  good  garment  when  he  sees  it,  but 
his  customers  don't;  and  if  Geigermann  could  get, 
for  a  dollar  less  than  ours,  garments  which  looks  like 
ours  and  is  like  ours,  all  but  the  buttons  and  the 
pleats  in  the  skirt,  we  could  kiss  ourselves  good-by 
with  the  business,  no  matter  how  many  bright 
greenhorns  we  got  it  in  our  cutting  room." 

"Geh  weg!"  Morris  exclaimed.  "You  don't  know 
what  you  are  talking  about,  Abe." 

Nevertheless,  when  Felix  Geigermann,,  the  well- 


244  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

known  Harlem  dry-goods  merchant  and  violin  dilet 
tante,  entered  Potash  &  Perlmutter's  showroom  the 
next  morning  Morris  greeted  him  with  some  mis 
giving. 

" Hello,  Felix!"  he  said.  "Are  you  giving  us  a 
repeat  order  so  soon  already  on  them  4022*5?" 

Felix  shook  his  head. 

"I  got  a  few  words  to  say  to  Abe,  Mawruss,"  he 
replied.  "Is  he  in  now?" 

Morris  smiled  amiably,  although  he  was  convinced 
that  Felix's  visit  boded  a  cancellation  of  the  4022*8, 

"He  ain't  in  now,"  he  answered,  "but  if  you  wait 
a  few  minutes  he'll  be  right  back." 

He  returned  hastily  to  the  office,  for  he  knew 
that  if  Abe  found  them  in  conversation  on  his  return 
he  would  impute  the  cancellation  of  the  order  to 
something  Morris  had  said.  Thus  Felix  was  left 
alone  in  the  showroom,  save  for  Cesar  Kovalenko, 
who  plied  a  feather  duster  industriously  among  the 
sample-racks.  As  he  worked,  Cesar  whistled  a 
Russian  melody,  half  sad,  half  cheerful,  and  Felix 
paused  midway  in  the  lighting  of  his  cigar.  It  was 
the  opening  theme  in  the  second  movement  of  Tschai- 
kovsky's  Fourth  Symphony;  and  Cesar's  rendition 
of  it  was  not  only  true  to  pitch  but  he  managed  to 
introduce  certain  nuances  that  to  Felix  proclaimed 
the  born  musician, 

"What's  that  you  are  whistling?"  he  inquired; 
and  Cesar  smiled. 


BROTHERS  ALL  245 

"Tschaikovsky's  Fourt'  Symphony,"  he  replied, 
and  then  he  reached  around  to  his  hip-pocket. 
"See;  I  am  got  music." 

He  handed  a  paper-covered  miniature  score  to 
Geigermann,  who  opened  it  at  random. 

"Ha!"  Felix  exclaimed  as  his  eye  lit  on  a  familiar 
phrase  in  the  last  movement.  He  hummed  it  over 
and  Cesar  joined  him  in  a  clear,  musical  barytone. 
They  were  thus  engaged  when  a  tall,  broad- 
shouldered  individual  entered  the  showroom. 

"Sorry  to  interrupt  you,  gentlemen,"  he  said, 
"but  is  the  boss  in?" 

"In  the  office  back  there,"  Felix  replied. 

"Will  you  tell  him  Mr.  Gunther  would  like  to 
see  him?"  the  newcomer  continued. 

"I  will  if  you  want  me  to,"  Felix  said;  "but  I 
am  here  only  a  customer." 

"Excuse  me,"  Mr.  Gunther  apologized.  "I  was 
talking  about  the  other  feller.  However " 

He  proceeded  to  the  office  and  engaged  Morris  in 
earnest  conversation  for  several  minutes.  They 
returned  to  the  showroom  just  as  Cesar  was  re 
placing  the  score  in  his  hip-pocket.  The  motion  was 
too  much  for  Mr.  Gunther,  whose  occupation  made 
him  nervous;  and  he  plunged  his  hand  into  his  over 
coat  and  brought  out  a  shining  metallic  object. 
There  was  a  sharp  struggle  and  Cesar  Kovalenko 
leaned  against  the  partition  with  his  wrists  encircled 
by  a  pair  of  handcuffs. 


246  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Come  along  quiet,"  said  Mr.  Gunther  calmly, 
"or  I'll  knock  yer  block  awff." 

At  this  juncture  the  elevator  door  banged  open 
and  Abe  came  into  the  showroom. 

"What  is  the  matter  here?"  he  criedo 

Mr.  Gunther  smiled. 

"I'm  a  United  States  deputy  marshal,"  he  pro 
claimed,  "and  I'm  arresting  this  guy  under  a  war 
rant  duly  issued  in  the  Southern  District  of  New 
York.  I  Ve  got  a  taxicab  downstairs  and  if  any  of 
you  gentlemen  is  a  friend  of  the  prisoner  youse  can 
come  along  to  the  marshal's  office." 

Morris  darted  into  the  office  and  reappeared  with 
his  hat  and  coat. 

"Abe,"  he  said,  "you  stay  here  in  the  store.  I 
would  go  down  with  him." 

Abe  frowned. 

"One  moment,  Mawruss,"  he  cried.  "It  don't 
go  so  quick  as  all  that.  First,  we  would  find  out 
what  he  makes  this  young  feller  arrested  for." 

The  deputy  marshal  nodded. 

"That's  all  right,"  he  said.  "You're  entitled 
to  know  it.  He's  arrested  on  the  complaint  of  the 
Russian  Consulate  for  something  he  did  in  Russia 
two  years  ago." 

"In  Russia!"  Abe  exclaimed.  "Two  years  ago! 
Mawruss,  do  me  a  favour.  You  stay  in  the  store  and 
I  would  go  with  him." 

Felix  Geigermann  placed  his  hand  on  Abe's  arm. 


BROTHERS  ALL  247 

"Say,  lookyhere,  Abe,"  he  said.  "I'll  tell  you 
the  truth.  I  am  pretty  busy  to-day  and  I  am  com 
ing  here  to  cancel  them  4022 's;  but  now  I  don't  care 
at  all.  You  could  ship  them  goods  if  you  want  to, 
Abe;  but  one  thing  I  ask  you  as  a  favour  —  let  me  go 
with  him.  I  don't  care  what  the  other  feller  says. 
I  am  just  now  talking  to  this  here  young  feller  and 
if  he  done  anything  in  Russia,  understand  me,  I 
would  eat  it.  So  you  stay  here  and  tend  to  business 
and  I  would  go  with  him." 

Morris  drew  on  his  overcoat  with  force  sufficient 
to  rip  the  sleeve-lining.  "Nathan,  the  shipping 
clerk,  could  tend  the  store,  Abe,"  he  declared,  "and 
we'll  all  go  with  him." 

"In  the  first  place,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said,  after  they 
had  returned  from  the  United  States  Commissioner's 
office,  where  Cesar  Kovalenko  had  been  arraigned 
and  committed  without  bail  to  the  Tombs —  "in 
the  first  place  what  are  we  bothering  our  heads 
about  this  young  feller?  Of  course,  when  I  was 
down  there,  Mawruss,  and  see  that  feller  from  the 
Russian  counsellor's  office,  which  he  is  got  a  face, 
Mawruss,  hard  like  iron,  y 'understand,  I  didn't  say 
nothing;  but  the  way  you  are  going  to  work  and 
telephoning  to  Henry  D.  Feldman  and  every 
thing,  Mawruss  —  before  we  would  get  through  with 
him  it  would  cost  us  anyhow  a  couple  hundred 
dollars/' 


243  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

" Geigermann  says  he  would  go  half,"  Morris  said. 

"Sure,  I  know,  Mawruss;  but  just  because  Geiger 
mann  acts  like  a  sucker,  Mawruss,  why  should  we 
get  ourselves  into  it  too?  Furthermore,  Mawruss 
how  do  we  know  Geigermann  would  go  half?  He's 
that  kind  of  feller,  Mawruss,  that  when  he  says  some 
thing  he  don't  take  it  so  particular  he  should  stick 
to  it,  Mawruss.  One  day  he  gives  us  an  order 
and  the  next  day  cancels  it,  Mawruss  —  and  that's 
the  kind  of  a  man  he  is." 

"He  didn't  cancel  it,  Abe,"  Morris  cried.  "He 
was  going  to  cancel  it,  but  he  changed  his  mind." 

"Sure,  he  changed  his  mind,"  Abe  interrupted; 
"and  what  is  going  to  hinder  him  changing  his  mind 
on  this  other  proposition,  Mawruss  ?  You  could  take 
it  from  me,  Mawruss,  when  the  time  comes  he  should 
pay  up,  understand  me,  it'll  be  a  case  of  nix  wissen — 
and  don't  you  forget  it." 

Morris  shrugged  impatiently. 

"Nu,  Abe,"  he  said;  "what  could  we  do?  Once 
in  a  while  we  couldn't  help  ourselves,  y 'understand. 
Should  we  let  this  poor  greenhorn  be  sent  back  to 
Russland,  which  he  ain't  got  a  relative  in  the  world, 
understand  me,  except  his  cousin,  which  he  is  just 
as  poor  as  Kovalenko?" 

"That's  all  right,  Mawruss,"  Abe  declared.  "I 
ain't  kicking  we  shouldn't  help  the  feller.  All  I 
am  saying  is  there's  lots  of  our  people  which  they 
got  more  dollars  as  we  got  dimes.  Take  Moses  M. 


BROTHERS  ALL  249 

Steuermann,  for  instance;  there's  a  feller  which  he 
is  such  a  big  charity  feller,  understand  me,  why 
shouldn't  he  help  Kovalenko?" 

"Well,  in  the  first  place,  no  one  tells  him  about  it, 
Abe,"  Morris  said,  "and  in  the  second  place " 

"But  why  don't  we  tell  him  about  it,  Mawruss?'9 
Abe  interrupted.  "Why  don't  you  go  down  to  see 
iiirn,  Mawruss,  and  tell  him  all  about  it?" 

"Me  go  down  to  see  him,  Abe!"  Morris  cried. 
"Why,  the  feller  is  a  multimillionaire.  With  such 
people  like  that  I  couldn't  open  my  mouth  at  all. 
Why  don't  you  go  down  to  see  him?" 

"Why  should  I  go  down?"  Abe  asked.  "You 
are  the  lodge  brother  here,  Mawruss  —  ain't  it? 
You  are  the  one  which  you  are  always  sitting  up  till 
all  hours  of  the  night  making  motions.  I  couldn't 
make  a  motion  to  save  my  life,  Mawruss,  and  you 
know  it." 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Morris  protested;  "but  lodge 
meetings  is  something  else  again.  A  feller  could  talk 
at  a  lodge  meeting  —  and  what  is  it?  A  couple 
young  lawyers  which  they  couldn't  even  pay  their 
laundry  bills,  y'understand,  and  a  dozen  other  fellers, 
insurance  brokers  oder  cigar  dealers,  and  most  of 
'em  old-timers  at  that  —  why  should  I  be  afraid  to 
say  a  little  something  to  'em?  But  with  a  feller 
like  Moses  M.  Steuermann,  which  his  folks  was 
bankers  in  Frankfort-on-the-Main  when  Carnegie 
and  Vanderbilt  and  all  them  other  goyim  was  new 


250  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

beginners  yet,  Abe  —  that's  a  different  proposition 
entirely." 

Abe  nodded  and  remained  silent  for  a  few  minutes. 

"Might  Felix  Geigermann  would  go  down  and  see 
him,  Mawruss,"  he  suggested  finally.  "  It  wouldn  't 
do  no  harm  we  should  ring  him  up  anyhow." 

"Go  as  far  as  you  like,  Abe,"  Morris  said,  and  Abe 
started  immediately  for  the  telephone. 

"  I  spoke  to  Felix,  Mawruss,"  he  announced  a  few 
minutes  later,  "and  Felix  said  he  would  go  right 
down  and  see  him.  He  ain't  so  stuck  on  paying 
Feldman  a  couple  hundred  dollars  neither." 

Morris  snorted  indignantly. 

"If  you  was  going  to  be  charitable,  Abe,"  he  said, 
"why  don't  you  be  a  sport?  We  could  easy  stand 
a  couple  hundred  dollars." 

"That's  all  right,  Mawruss,"  Abe  declared. 
"Business  is  business  and  chanty  is  charity, 
y 'understand;  but  even  in  charity,  Mawruss,  it 
don't  do  no  harm  to  keep  the  expenses  down." 

Two  hours  afterward  Felix  Geigermann  entered 
the  showroom,  his  face  glistening  with  perspiration. 

"Well,  boys,"  he  almost  shouted,  "I  seen  him, 
and  he  says  he  would  call  in  here  on  his  way  uptown." 

"Who  would  call  in?"  Morris  asked. 

"Moses  M.  Steuermann,"  Felix  replied.  "It  was 
the  Tschaikovsky  Fourth  that  fixed  him,  Mawruss. 
I  told  him  that  young  feller  carries  round  with  him 
an  orchestral  score,  and  right  away  he  says  he  would 


BROTHERS  ALL  251 

come  up.  For  years  I  seen  Mr.  Steuermann  at  the 
Philharmonics  and  the  Boston  Symphonies,  Maw- 
russ,  and  I  didn  't  know  who  he  was  at  all.  I  always 
thought  he  was  something  to  do  with  a  music- 
publishing  concern." 

"Steuermann  got  something  to  do  with  a  music- 
publishing  concern!"  Morris  exclaimed.  "I'm 
surprised  to  hear  you,  you  should  talk  that  way, 
Felix." 

"Well,  when  you  are  seeing  year  in  and  year  out 
a  feller  goes  to  every  concert  what  is,  Abe,"  Felix 
explained,  "naturally  you  get  an  idee  he  is  in  the 
music  business  —  ain't  it?" 

"That's  what  you  think,  Felix,"  Abe  said,  taking 
up  the  cudgels  in  defence  of  Steuermann;  "but  you 
could  take  it  from  me,  Felix,  if  a  feller  like  Steuer 
mann  seemingly  fools  away  his  time  at  concerts, 
understand  me,  he  ain't  doing  it  for  nothing.  He 
probably  gets  some  business  out  of  it  the  same  like 
a  lot  of  fellers  you  would  think  is  making  suckers  of 
themselves  going  to  lodge  meetings,  Felix.  Most 
of  'em  sells  many  a  big  bill  of  goods  that  way." 

"That  ain't  here  nor  there,  Abe,"  Felix  rejoined. 
"The  point  is,  Steuermann  would  be  up  here  at 
five  o'clock;  so,  what  are  you  going  to  tell  him  when 
he  calls?" 

"Me  tell  him!"  Abe  cried.  "Why,  I  wouldn't 
be  here  at  all.  I  got  to — now — see — a — now — 
customer  at  the  Prince  Clarence." 


252  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

1  'You  ain't  got  to  do  nothing  of  the  kind,  Abe,3' 
Morris  retorted  angrily.  "You  are  going  to  stay- 
right  here  and  talk  to  that  feller  when  he  comes. 
What  do  you  think  —  I  am  going  to  be  the  goat 
every  time?" 

"What's  the  matter,  Abe?"  Felix  asked.  "Are 
you  afraid  of  the  feller?  He  couldn't  eat  you  up, 
Abe." 

"What  d  'ye  mean,  afraid  of  him ? "  Abe  exclaimed. 
"  I  am  seeing  big  merchants  every  day,  Felix,  and  I 
could  talk  right  up  to  them  too.  But  this  here  is 
my  partner's  affair.  He  hired  Kovalenko  in  the 
first  place;  and " 

"What's  the  use  talking,  Abe?"  Morris  inter 
rupted.  "If  you  go  home  I  go  home;  so  you  got  to 
stay  and  we  would  both  see  the  feller.  vWhat  is  the 
difference,  supposing  the  feller  does  got  a  couple  mil 
lion  dollars?" 

"A  couple  million  dollars!"  Felix  said.  "Why, 
I  bet  yer,  if  the  feller's  got  a  cent  he  is  worth  twenty 
million  dollars." 

Abe  drew  pale. 

"Say,  lookyhere,  why  should  I  talk  to  Mr.  Steuer- 
mann?"  he  besought.  "You  could  do  this  without 
me,  Mawruss." 

"Don't  be  a  baby,  Abe,"  Morris  retorted.  "Fe 
lix  would  stay  here  with  us  and " 

"Not  me,  boys,"  Felix  said.  "I  guess  you  got 
to  excuse  me.  I  done  enough  already  and  if  I  don't 


BROTHERS  ALL  253 

get  right  home  and  change  my  underclothes,  which 
they  are  dripping  wet  with  perspiration,  I  would 
sure  catch  a  bad  cold." 

He  shook  Abe  and  Morris  warmly  by  the  hand; 
and  hardly  had  the  elevator  door  closed  behind 
him  when  the  showroom  became  a  scene  of  nervous 
activity. 

"Nathan,"  Abe  yelled  to  the  shipping  clerk,  "fetch 
the  broom.  The  place  looks  like  a  pigsty  here!" 

He  turned  to  Morris  with  excited  gesture. 

"Do  me  the  favour,  Mawruss,"  he  said;  "tell  a 
couple  of  them  young  fellers  from  the  cutting  room 
to  come  in  here.  Them  sample-racks  ain't  been 
straightened  up  for  a  week.  I  am  going  round  to  the 
barber  shop,  Mawruss,  and  I  would  be  right  back." 

It  lacked  one  minute  of  five  and  Abe  and  Morris 
sat  at  their  respective  desks  in  the  firm's  office, 
when  Miss  Cohen,  the  bookkeeper,  knocked  timidly 
at  the  door. 

"A  gentleman  wants  to  see  you,  Mr.  Potash," 
she  said.  "He  wouldn't  give  his  name." 

Abe  cleared  his  throat  with  an  effort. 

"Tell  him  he  should  come  right  in,"  he  croaked; 
and  a  moment  later  a  tall  personage,  clad  in  a  fur 
overcoat  and  wearing  a  freshly  ironed  silk  hat,  ap 
peared  in  the  doorway. 

"Is  this  Mr.  Potash?"  he  asked  in  rounded,  ora 
torical  tones. 


254  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Abe  nodded.  For  a  moment  he  was  bereft  of 
speech  and  he  jerked  his  head  sideways  in  the  di 
rection  of  his  partner. 

"This  is  Mr.  Perlmutter,"  he  said  at  length  - 
"my  partner." 

"How  do  you  do,  sir?"  the  visitor  replied  as  he 
seized  Morris's  clammy  palm  in  a  warm  embrace. 

"Take  a  seat,"  Morris  murmured,  dragging  forth 
a  chair;  and  the  stranger  sat  down  deliberately. 

"Well,  sir,"  Abe  asked,  "what  could  we  do  for 
you?" 

"Mr.  Potash,"  the  visitor  began,  "every  merchant 
is  at  times  confronted  with  a  situation  which  de 
mands  a  few  appropriate  remarks." 

Abe  nodded  and  mopped  tentatively  at  his  dewy 
forehead. 

"But  how  many  are  there,"  the  visitor  continued, 
"who  can  do  justice  to  the  occasion?  For  instance, 
Mr.  Perlmutter,  you  are  asked  at  a  charitable 
meeting  to  discuss  the  question  of  restricting  im 
migration.  I  ask  you  candidly,  Mr.  Perlmutter, 
would  you  feel  competent  to  stand  upon  your  feet 
and " 

Suddenly  Abe  jumped  to  his  feet. 

"Excuse  me,  my  dear  sir,"  he  cried.  "Wouldn't 
you  smoke  a  cigar?" 

Morris  was  nearest  the  safe  and  he,  too,  leaped 
from  his  chair. 

"Never    mind    the    safe,    Mawruss,"    Abe    said, 


BROTHERS  ALL  255 

flapping  his  right  hand  excitedly.  "I  bought  some 
while  I  was  out  just  now." 

He  handed  a  gold-banded,  Bismarck-size  cigar 
to  the  visitor,  who  nodded  a  dignified  acknowledg 
ment  and  immediately  struck  a  match. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Perlmutter,"  he  went  on,  "as  I  was 
saying,  such  a  topic  as  the  restriction  of  immigration 
would  embarrass  even  an  experienced  speaker." 
He  paused  and  cleared  his  throat  impressively. 
"Now,  I  have  here,"  he  said,  exploring  the  capacious 
pockets  of  his  overcoat,  "a  work  entitled  'A  Quarter 
of  a  Century  in  Congress,'  by  the  Honourable  Lucius 
J.  Howell,  which,  gentlemen,  is  issued  upon  sub 
scription  only,  in  half  morocco  or  crushed  levant  at  a 
hitherto  unheard-of  price." 

Abe  ceased  mopping  his  brow  and  turned  a  ter 
rible  glare  upon  the  book  canvasser. 

"What!"  he  roared.     "A  book  agent?" 

Once  more  he  jumped  to  his  feet.  "Out!" 
he  bellowed.  "Out  from  my  office,  you  dirty 
loafer!" 

The  book  agent  scowled  and  replaced  the  bound 
dummy  in  his  pocket. 

"With  a  high-grade  selling  proposition  like  this., 
Mr.  Potash,"  he  said,  "you  should  be  careful  of 
your  language." 

"Mawruss,"  Abe  cried,  "what  the  devil  do  you 
mean  letting  in  a  feller  like  this?" 

"What    d'ye    mean,    letting    him    in?"    Morris 


256  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

retorted.  "Did  I  tell  Miss  Cohen  she  should  show 
him  in?" 

"Don't  quarrel  on  my  account,  gentlemen/'  the 
canvasser  said  as  he  puffed  at  his  cigar.  "I  shall 
call  again  when  you're  not  so  busy." 

He  passed  out  of  the  office  with  a  graceful  gesture 
of  farewell,  and  once  more  Abe  and  Morris  sat  down 
on  the  edge  of  their  chairs.  It  was  not  for  long, 
however;  and  this  time,  without  any  announcement, 
a  thick-set  gentleman  with  carefully  trimmed  beard 
and  moustache  stood  in  the  doorway. 

"Good  afternoon,  gentlemen,"  he  said  —  and 
Abe  and  Morris  literally  sprang  into  the  middle 
of  the  office  floor. 

"Mr.  Steuermann?"  Abe  gasped,  extending  his 
hand. 

"  My  name  is  Mr.  Goldstein,"  the  visitor  re 
plied,  "and  I  represent  the  Lily  white  Dress  Shield 
Company." 

He  proceeded  no  further,  however,  for  Morris  led 
him  by  the  shoulder  to  the  elevator  shaft  and  pointed 
to  a  notice  reading: 

HOURS     FOR    SALESMEN 

8   to  9:30 

Morris  returned  to  the  office  and  hardly  was  he 
seated  in  his  chair  when,  for  the  third  time,  the  door 
way  framed  a  visitor. 

"Mr.  Potash?"  the  newcomer  asked  timidly.  He 
was  a  short,  slender  man,  past  middle  age,  clad  in 


BROTHERS  ALL  257 

a  shabby  overcoat,  half  threadbare,  and  a  soft  Mr 
hat  of  a  dingy,  weatherbeaten  appearance. 

"Nu!"     Abe  growled.     "What  is  it  now?" 

"Mr.  Potash,"  the  stranger  continued,  "  1  ca!l<-<i 
to  see  you  at  the  request  of  Mr.  ( iri^-rmann.  My 
name  is  Steuermann."  Abe  essayed  to  rise,  but 
his  knees  would  not  support  him  and  he  waved 
his  hand  feebly  to  a  chair  that  Morris  dragged  for 
ward. 

"Mr.  Steuermann,"  Morris  said,  "you  are  coming 
up  here  to  see  us  when  we  could  much  better  afford  it 
if  we  would  go  down  and  see  you." 

"Why,  gentlemen,  it  was  no  inconvenience  ifor 
me,"  Steuermann  replied.  "I  am  on  my  way 
home. " 

"God  would  bless  you  for  it,  anyway!"  Abe 
declared  fervently;  and  Steuermann  blushed. 

"Now,  Mr.  Potash,"  he  protested,  "I  am  not  here 
for  compliments.  I've  come  to  see  what  we  can 
all  do  for  this  poor  fellow.  I'm  a  little  late,  be 
cause  I  was  waiting  for  a  report  from  my  lawyers.'* 

"Your  lawyers!"  Abe  exclaimed.  "Why,  we  al 
ready  hired  Henry  D.  Feldman." 

"So  I  believe,"  Steuermann  replied;  "and  he  has 
consented  to  act  in  conjunction  with  my  lawyers  - 
Chitty,   Schwarzstein   &   Munjoy.     I   shall    relieve 
you  gentlemen  of  all  responsibility  in  the  matter." 

"Do  you  mean  by  responsibility,  Mr.  Steuermann, 
that  you  would  pay  Feldman?"  Abe  asked. 


258  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Mr.  Steuermann  smiled. 

"Well,  we  won't  discuss  that  just  now,"  he  said. 

"Because,"  Abe  continued,  "we  wouldn't  con 
sent  to  nothing  of  the  kind,  Mr.  Steuermann;  the 
young  feller  works  for  us  and  we  would  got  to  do  our 
share." 

"That  part  will  come  later,"  Steuermann  in 
sisted;  "and  now  let's  see  what  is  to  be  done." 

For  more  than  half  an  hour  Steuermann  disclosed 
to  Abe  and  Morris  the  result  of  his  lawyers'  inves 
tigation. 

"Mr.  Munjoy  has  seen  Kovalenko,"  Steuermann 
said,  "and  he  asserts  that,  so  far  as  proof  is  concerned, 
no  murder  was  ever  committed." 

"But,  Mr.  Steuermann,"  Morris  said,  "the  feller 
which  he  opened  the  package,  y 'understand,  was 
blown  up  so  his  own  father  couldn't  recognize  him 


even." 


"That's  just  the  point,  Mr.  Perlmutter,"  Steuer 
mann  declared;  "and  Mr.  Munjoy  says  that  on  this 
circumstance  hinges  the  Russian  Consulate's  whole 
case.  They  are  obliged  to  prove  that  a  definite 
person  was  killed;  and  it  seems  that  the  consulate 
paid  the  passage  of  the  victim's  father  to  this  coun 
try,  so  that  he  might  testify  before  the  United 
States  Commissioner.  I  understand  that  the  old 
man,  who  by  the  way  is  a  Rabbi,  arrived  last  week. 
Mr.  Munjoy  says  that  if  the  father  is  unable 
to  testify  to  the  identity  of  the  victim  it  may  so 


BROTHERS  ALL  259 

complicate  matters  that  more  evidence  will  be  neces 
sary  and  the  consulate  may  drop  the  affair  on 
account  of  the  expense  involved." 

Morris  nodded  sadly. 

"Lawyers  could  always  make  expenses,  Mr. 
Steuermann,"  he  said,  "for  the  Russian  counsellor 
and  for  us  also." 

"Never  mind  about  expense,  Mawruss,"  Abe  in 
terrupted.  "What  does  it  matter  a  few  hundred 
dollars,  Mawruss,  so  long  as  we  get  this  young  feller 
free?  In  fact,  Mr.  Steuermann,  I  am  willing  we 
should  go  half  if  we  could  see  this  here  Rabbi  and 
schmier  him  a  thousand  dollars  he  should  swear  that 
no  one  was  killed  at  all." 

Mr.  Steuermann  shook  his  head.  "That  would  be 
in  effect  suborning  perjury,  Mr.  Potash,"  he  said  — • 
and  Morris  glared  at  Abe. 

"I'm  surprised  at  you,  you  should  suggest  such 
a  thing,  Abe!"  he  exclaimed.  "Seemingly  you  got 
no  conscience  at  all.  A  thousand  dollars  we  should 
pay  the  feller!  I  bet  yer  he  would  lie  himself  black 
in  the  face  for  a  twenty-dollar  bill." 

"It  isn't  a  matter  of  money,  Mr.  Perlmutter," 
Steuermann  said;  "but  why  not  see  the  old  man  to 
night?  I  have  his  address  here,  and  if  you  approached 
him  in  the  right  way  perhaps  he  might  testify 
that  he  did  not  recognize  the  murdered  man.  That 
would  only  be  the  simple  truth  and  it  would  be  just 
what  we  want.  As  it  is,  I'm  afraid  the  Russian 


26o  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Consulate  will  intimidate  him  into  swearing  that 
he  knew  the  body  to  be  that  of  his  son." 

He  handed  Morris  a  card  bearing  a  Madison 
Street  address. 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  he  concluded,  "I've  taken 
up  your  time  long  enough.  I  hope  to  see  you  in  my 
office  to-morrow,  Mr.  Perlmutter." 

Morris  nodded  and  was  about  to  shake  hands 
with  his  visitor  when  Abe  slapped  his  thigh  in  a 
sudden  realization  of  his  inhospitality. 

"Mr.  Steuermann,"  he  exclaimed,  "wouldn't 
you  smoke  something?" 

He  jumped  to  his  feet  and  thrust  a  huge  gold- 
banded  cigar  at  Mr.  Steuermann,  who  shook  his 
head. 

"Thank  you  very  much,"  Mr.  Steuermann  said, 
""but  I'm  afraid  it's  rather  near  dinner-time." 

"Put  it  in  your  pocket  and  smoke  it  after  din 
ner,"  Abe  insisted,  and  Mr.  Steuermann  smilingly 
obliged. 

Together  the  two  partners  escorted  him  into  the 
elevator;  and  when  the  door  closed  behind  him 
Morris  turned  to  Abe  with  an  ironical  smile. 

"You  got  a  whole  lot  of  manners,  Abe,  I  must 
say,"  he  commented  bitterly. 

"What d'ye  mean,  manners?"  Abe  asked.  "What 
did  I  done?" 

"Tell  a  millionaire  like  Mr.  Steuermann  he  should 
.smoke  the  cigar  after  dinner!"  Morris  replied. 


BROTHERS  ALL  261 

Don't  you  suppose  he's  got  plenty  cigars  of  his 


own?" 


"Maybe  he  did  got  'em  and  maybe  he  didn't,'* 
Abe  retorted;  "but,  in  the  first  place,  Mawruss,  I 
noticed  he  took  the  cigar,  y 'understand;  and,  in  the 
second  place,  Mawruss,  them  cigar-s  cost  thirty-five 
cents  apiece,  Mawruss,  and  there's  few  million 
aires,  Mawruss,  which  is  too  proud  to  smoke  a  thirty- 
five-cent  cigar." 

When  Morris  Perlmutter  entered  the  subway 
that  evening  en  route  for  the  lower  East  Side,  he 
was  in  none  too  cheerful  mood;  for,  in  the  excite* 
ment  attending  Steuermann's  visit,  he  had  forgotten 
to  telephone  Mrs.  Perlmutter  that  he  would  be  late 
for  dinner.  Consequently  there  had  been  a  pain 
ful  scene  upon  his  arrival  home  that  evening,  nor 
had  Mrs.  Perlmutter 's  wrath  been  appeased  when 
he  informed  her  that  he  was  obliged  to  go  right 
downtown  again. 

Indeed,  his  sympathy  for  Cesar  Kovalenko  had 
well-nigh  evaporated  as  he  entered  the  subway,  and 
he  reflected  bitterly  upon  the  circumstance  that 
first  led  him  to  hire  that  unfortunate  young  man. 
Thus  there  was  something  doubly  irritating  in  the 
coincidence  which  seated  him  next  to  Louis  Kiel- 
man  in  the  crowded  express  train  he  had  boarded, 
and  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  ignore  his  com 
petitor's  presence  when  Louis  caught  sight  of  him. 


262  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS. 

"So,  Perlmutter,"  Louis  commented,  without  any 
introductory  greeting,  "you  are  trying  to  do  us 
again!" 

Morris  turned  and  stared  icily  at  Kleiman. 

"I  don't  want  to  talk  to  you  at  all,  Kleiman," 
he  replied;  "and,  anyhow,  Kleiman,  I  don't  know 
what  you  mean  —  we  are  trying  to  do  you !  The 
shoe  pinches  on  the  other  foot,  Kleiman,  when  you 
just  stop  to  consider  you  are  stealing  away  from  us 
that  feller  Harkavy,  which  all  he  knows  we  taught 
him." 

Louis  Kleiman  emitted  a  short,  raucous  guffaw. 

"Well,  what  are  you  kicking  about?"  he  said. 
"You  stole  him  back  again  —  ain't  it?" 

"  Stole  him  back  again ! "  Morris  repeated.  "What 
are  you  talking  nonsense,  Kleiman?  We  wouldn't 
take  that  feller  back  in  our  store,  not  if  we  could 
get  him  to  come  to  work  for  two  dollars  a  week." 

"Yow!"  Kleiman  exclaimed  skeptically.  "I 
don't  suppose  you  know  the  feller  left  us  at  all?" 

"I  did  not,"  Morris  replied  promptly;  "and  if 
he  did,  Kleiman,  I  couldn't  blame  him.  A  feller 
doesn't  want  to  work  all  his  life  for  ten  dollars  a 
week." 

"What  d'ye  mean,  ten  dollars  a  week?  We  paid 
Harkavy  fifteen  and  we  offered  him  twenty-five; 
but  the  feller  wouldn't  stay  with  us  at  all.  For 
two  weeks  now  he  acts  uneasy  and  yesterday  he 
leaves  us." 


BROTHERS  ALL  263 

"That's  all  right,  Kleiman,"  Morris  said  as  the 
train  drew  into  Ninety-sixth  Street.  "You  could 
easy  steal  somebody  else  from  another  concern." 
Kleiman  glared  at  Morris  and  was  about  to 
utter  a  particularly  incisive  retort  when  the  train 
stopped. 

"I  got  to  change  here,"  he  announced;  "but  when 
I  see  you  again,  Perlmutter,  I  would  tell  you  what 
you  are." 

"I  don't  got  to  tell  you  what  you  are,  Kleiman," 
Morris  concluded  as  he  opened  his  evening  paper. 
"You  know  only  too  well." 

" Rosher!"  Kleiman  hissed  as  he  hurled  himself 
Into  the  mob  of  passengers  that  blocked  the  exit. 

Morris  nodded  sardonically  and  commenced  to 
read  his  paper.  He  desisted  immediately,  however, 
when  his  eye  fell  upon  a  cut  accompanying  Felix 
Geigermann's  display  advertisement.  It  was  a 
beaded  marquisette  costume,  made  in  obvious  imi 
tation  of  one  of  Potash  &  Perlmutter 's  leaders;  and 
the  retail  price  quoted  by  Geigermann  was  precisely 
one  dollar  less  than  Potash  &  Perlmutter 's  lowest 
wholesale  figure. 

"That's  some  of  Harkavy's  work,"  Morris  mut 
tered;  and  for  the  remainder  of  the  journey  he  was 
once  more  plunged  in  the  gloomiest  cogitation. 
Almost  automatically  he  alighted  at  the  Brooklyn 
Bridge  and  boarded  a  Madison  Street  Car;  and  it 
was  not  until  the  jolting,  old-fashioned  vehicle  had. 


264  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

nearly  reached  its  eastern  terminus  that  he  discerned 
the  house  number  furnished  to  him  by  Steuermann. 
He  hurried  to  the  rear  platform  and  jumped  to  the 
street,  where  he  collided  violently  with  a  short, 
bearded  person. 

"Excuse  me!"  Morris  cried;  then  he  recognized 
his  victim.  "Harkavy!"  he  exclaimed.  "What 
are  you  doing  here?" 

"  I  am  coming  to  say  good-by  to  a  friend,"  Harkavy 
replied  with  some  show  of  confusion.  "I  got  to 
go  to  Chicago  to-morrow." 

"Chicago!"  Morris  repeated.  "Why,  what  are 
you  doing  in  Chicago,  Harkavy?" 

"  I  am  —  now  —  going  to  got  a  job  out  there,** 
Harkavy  replied  —  "a  very  good  job." 

Morris  drew  his  former  assistant  cutter  to  the 
sidewalk.  He  had  temporarily  forgotten  the  object 
of  his  visit  to  the  lower  East  Side  in  the  sudden  con 
ception  of  an  idea,  which  was  no  less  than  the  re- 
rr'ring  of  Harkavy. 

"What  for  a  good  job?"  Morris  asked.  "Twenty 
dollars  a  week?" 

Harkavy  nodded. 

"A  little  more,"  he  said  —  "twenty-five." 

"Schon  gut,'9  Morris  declared;  "then  you  wouldn't 
got  to  go  at  all,  because  we  ourselves  would  give 
you  thirty." 

"I  moost  go,"  Harkavy  said,  shaking  his  head; 
"my  fare  is  paid." 


BROTHERS  ALL  265 

"Pay  'em  back  the  fare,"  Morris  insisted  —  "we 
would  see  you  wouldn't  lose  it." 

Again  Harkavy  shook  his  head. 

"I  got  a  bonus  too,"  he  declared  —  "a  thousand 
rubles." 

"What  are  you  talking  about,  rubles?"  Morris 
said  impatiently.  "You  ain't  a  greenhorn  no  lon 
ger.  Do  you  mean  a  thousand  dollars?" 

"Six  hundred  dollars  —  about,"  Harkavy  replied. 

Morris  whistled. 

"Well,"  he  said  after  a  pause  of  some  seconds, 
"put  off  going  until  to-morrow  anyhow.  Maybe 
we  could  fix  up  to  give  you  the  six  hundred  dollars 
anyhow." 

Harkavy  remained  silent  and  Morris  clapped  him 
on  the  shoulder. 

"  If  people  is  so  anxious  to  get  you  that  they  pay 
you  a  big  lot  of  money  like  that,  Harkavy,  you 
could  keep  'em  waiting  anyhow  one  day.  Come 
round  and  see  us  to-morrow  morning  at  nine  o'clock, 
wouldn't  you?" 

Harkavy  pondered  the  question  for  some  minutes. 

"If  you  wish  it,  Mr.  Perlmutter,"  he  said,  "I 
would  do  so;  but  I  must  got  to  go  away  by  eleven 
o'clock  sure." 

"Good!"  Morris  exclaimed.  "Then  I'll  see  you 
to-morrow  morning  at  nine  o'clock.' 

They  shook  hands  on  the  appointment  and  Morris 
turned  away  and  ascended  the  high  stoop  of  an 


266  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

old-fashioned  tenement.  In  the  vestibule  he  en 
countered  a  boy  whose  right  cheek  was  apparently 
distorted  by  a  severe  toothache. 

"Do  a  family  by  the  name  Levin  live  here?" 
Morris  asked. 

The  boy  nodded  and  disgorged  a  huge  lump  of 
toffee,  whereat  the  toothache  disappeared. 

"Dat's  me  fader,"  he  said.  "Fourt'  floor  front 
east.  He  ain't  in,  dough." 

"Your  father!"  Morris  cried.  "Why,  the  peo 
ple  I  am  coming  to  see  they  are  greenhorns." 

"Oh,  yeh,"  the  youngster  replied;  "dat's  me 
fader's  uncle.  He  lives  wid  us." 

"All  right,"  Morris  said.     "Take  me  up  there." 

The  youngster  resumed  his  swollen  cheek  and 
escorted  Morris  up  three  flights  of  slippery  brass- 
bound  stairs.  Without  the  formality  of  knocking, 
they  entered  an  apartment  on  the  fourth  floor  where 
a  woman  stood  washing  dishes. 

"Mrs.  Levin?"  Morris  said. 

The  woman  nodded. 

"I  want  to  see  your  man's  uncle,"  Morris  con 
tinued.  Without  looking  up  the  woman  cried  in 
stentorian  tones:  "Mees-taire!" 

In  response  a  bent  figure,  clad  in  an  alpaca  caf 
tan,  appeared  from  an  interior  bedroom.  He  wore 
a  velvet  skullcap,  and  a  thin  gray  beard  straggled 
from  his  chin;  his  nose  was  surmounted  by  a  pair 
of  steel  spectacles. 


BROTHERS  ALL  267 

"Sholom  alaicham!"  Morris  cried,  according  the 
Rabbi  that  greeting,  as  ancient  as  the  Hebrew  tongue 
itself  —  "Peace  be  with  you." 

"Alaicham  sholom!"  the  Rabbi  answered,  and  then 
he  resorted  to  the  Yiddish  jargon:  "Do  you  look 
forme?" 

"I  look  for  the  Rav  Elkan  Levin,"  Morris  said 
in  a  tongue  to  which  he  had  long  been  unaccustomed. 
"I  am  the  servant  of  the  philanthropist  Steuer- 


mann." 


"Steuermann?"  the  Rav  Levin  repeated.  "I  do 
not  know  him." 

"In  America,"  Morris  said,  "his  name  is  hon 
ored  over  the  governor's.  He  sends  me  to  you  to 
speak  for  the  unfortunate  Tzwee  Kovalenko." 

"  Tzwee  Kovalenko,"  the  old  man  cried,  and  his 
beard  stood  out  as  his  invisible  lips  tightened, 
while  his  nose  became  sharp  and  hawk-like.  "A 
mishna  meshuna  to  him,  the  same  as  he  sent  to  my 


son." 


"No,"  Morris  declared;  "he  did  not  send  it  to 
your  son.  It  was  another  that  did  it." 

The  old  man  sank  trembling  into  a  nearby  chair 
and  clutched  the  edge  of  the  table. 

"You  tell  this  to  me  who  saw  with  my  own  eyes 
his  body!"  he  said  in  shaking  tones.  "Yes,  Baron; 
I  saw  my  own  child  like  a  slaughtered  beast,  all 
blood  —  not  a  face,  but  a  piece  of  flesh.  I  saw 
him,  and  you  tell  me  this!" 


268  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

"None  the  less,"  Morris  went  on,  "if  your  son 
did  die  it  was  a  kapora  not  meant  for  him.  It  was 
intended  for  the  chief  of  police." 

The  Rav  shook  his  head. 

"It  stands  in  the  Gemera"  he  said,  in  the  sing 
song  tone  of  the  Talmudical  reader:  "If  one  flings 
a  stone  for  pleasure  and  it  strikes  another  so  that  he 
dies,  the  one  also  shall  die." 

He  rose  to  his  feet  and  waved  one  hand  with  a 
flapping  motion.  "An  eye  for  an  eye!"  he  cried  in 
shrill  tones.  "A  tooth  for  a  tooth!" 

Morris  shrank  back  and  turned  to  the  woman,  who 
had  not  raised  her  head  from  the  dishwashing. 

"You  tell  him,"  he  said,  "that  the  philanthropist 
Steuermann  invites  him  to  come  to  the  address  I 
shall  give  you  —  to-morrow  at  ten  o'clock.  Tell 
him  you  know  tharwhen  Steuermann  commands, 
governors  obey." 

"What  is  it  my  business?"  Mrs.  Levin  replied. 
"Tell  him  yourself." 

"Your  man  should  go  with  him,"  Morris  insisted. 
"He  and  you  will  not  lose  by  it." 

Morris  wrote  the  address  on  the  back  of  one  of 
Potash  &  Perlmutter's  business  cards  and  handed 
it  to  her. 

"Put  on  it  the  table,"  she  said. 

"Tell  your  man,"  Morris  continued,  "if  he  does 
take  this  old  man  to  Steuermann  I  myself  will  pay 
him  twenty-five  dollars." 


BROTHERS  ALL  269 

Once  more  he  faced  the  Rav7  who  had  sunk  again 
into  the  chair. 

"Will  it  bring  back  your  son  to  you  if  Tzzvee 
Kovalenko  dies?"  he  asked. 

The  old  man  plucked  at  his  beard. 

"He  was  my  son,  my  only  son/'  he  said;  "my 
Kaddish.  A  good  son  he  was." 

Mrs.  Levin,  still  at  her  dishwashing,  raised  her 
head  and  snorted  impatiently. 

" Yow  —  a  good  son!"  she  commented  in  English, 
"A  dirty,  lowlife  bum  he  was.  If  it  wouldn't  be 
that  he  ganvered  a  couple  bottles  wine  from  a  store 
he  wouldn't  of  been  in  the  police  office  at  all.  He 
brought  it  on  himself,  mister  —  believe  me." 

Morris  nodded. 

"What  is  vorbei  is  vorbei"  he  said.  "Tell  your 
man  he  should  bring  his  uncle  to  Steuermann  and 
I  would  pay  him  sure  twenty-five  dollars  cash." 

He  bowed  to  the  Rav  and  with  a  final  "  Sholom  alai- 
cham!"  passed  downstairs  to  the  street. 

As  he  waited  at  the  corner  for  a  west-bound  car 
he  thought  he  discerned  a  familiar  figure  in  the 
shadow  of  the  house  he  had  just  quitted.  He  walked 
slowly  up  the  block  and  Harkavy  stole  out  of  the 
basement  area  and  slunk  hurriedly  past  him. 

"Harkavy!"  Morris  called,  but  the  assistant  cut 
ter  only  hastened  his  steps  and  it  seemed  to  Morris 
that  a  sound  like  a  sob  was  borne  backward. 

"What  is  the  trouble,  Harkavy?"  Morris  cried; 


270  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

but  in  response  Harkavy  broke  into  a  run,  and  with 
a  mystified  shake  of  his  head  Morris  commenced  his 
tedious  journey  uptown. 

When  Morris,  in  company  with  his  partner,  en 
tered  the  showroom  at  eight  o'clock  the  following 
morning  he  had  already  enumerated  to  Abe  the 
events  of  the  preceding  evening,  not  omitting  his 
encounter  with  Harkavy. 

"I  bet  yer  he  would  be  waiting  for  us,  Mawruss," 
Abe  said;  "and  if  I  ain't  mistaken  here  he  is  now." 

Their  visitor,  however,  proved  to  be  a  stranger, 
who  bore  only  a  slight  resemblance  to  their  former 
cutter. 

"Mr.  Perlmutter,"  he  said  — "ain't  it?" 

"My  name  is  Mr.  Perlmutter,"  Morris  said. 
"What  do  you  want  from  us?" 

For  answer  the  visitor  drew  from  his  pocket  a 
card  and  handed  it  to  Morris. 

"Me,  I  am  Pincus  Levin,  and  you  are  leaving  this 
by  my  wife  last  night,"  he  said;  "so  I  am  coming  to 
tell  you  I  am  agreeable  to  take  Mr.  Levin  to  Steuer- 
mann's  place." 

"All  right,"  Morris  replied.     "You  can  go  ahead." 

Pincus  Levin  shuffled  his  feet  uneasily,  but  made 
no  attempt  to  depart. 

"Well?  "Morris  cried. 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Pincus  said;  "but  if  I  would  take 
my  uncle,  Mr.  Levin,  to  Steuermann,  y 'understand 


BROTHERS  ALL  271 

and  then,  maybe  —  I  am  only  saying,  Mr.  Perl- 
mutter,  you  might  forget  the  other  part  —  ain't  it?" 

"You  mean  you  want  your  twenty-five  dollars 
in  advance?"  Morris  asked. 

"Why  not?"  Pincus  replied.  "If  I  wouldn't 
took  Mr.  Levin  to-day  yet  to  this  here  Steuer- 
mann's  office,  Mr.  Perlmutter,  you  could  stop 
the  check " 

Abe  shrugged  his  shoulders  expressively. 

"An  idee!"  he  cried.  "You  ain't  never  seen  this 
feller  before,  Mawruss  —  ain't  it?" 

Morris  admitted  it. 

"Well,  then,  what's  the  use  talking?"  Abe  con 
tinued.  "How  do  we  know  he's  this  here  Levin's 
nephew?" 

"Why,  Mr.  Potash,"  Levin  cried,  "I  ain't  no 
crook!  I  got  the  old  man  in  a  coffee  house  round  the 
corner  right  now." 

"Bring  him  up  here  then,"  Abe  said,  "and  we'll 
give  you  your  money." 

Pincus  Levin  nodded  and  shuffled  off  toward  the 
back  stairs,  while  Abe  turned  and  gazed  after  him. 

"I  couldn't  make  it  out  at  all,  Mawruss,"  he 
said.  "The  more  I  look  at  that  feller,  Mawruss, 
the  more  he  makes  me  think  of  this  here " 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Potash!"  a  familiar  voice 
interrupted.  It  was  Harkavy. 

"Hello  there!"  Morris  cried  cheerfully,  "I 
thought  you  would  be  here." 


272  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

Harkavy  smiled  sadly.  His  face  was  white  and 
drawn  and  his  shoes  and  trousers  were  covered 
with  mud  as  though  he  had  walked  the  streets 
all  night. 

"I  am  keeping  my  word  anyhow,"  he  said;  "but 
I  am  only  coming  to  tell  you  I  got  to  go  to  Chicago." 

"Why  must  you  got  to  go?"     Abe  insisted. 

"Well,  there's  certain  reasons,  Mr.  Potash," 
Harkavy  replied.  "There's  certain  —  rea " 

He  struggled  to  control  his  speech  as  his  eyes 
rested  on  the  rear  stairway,  but  his  words  became 
more  and  more  inarticulate  until,  with  a  shudder  and 
a  gasp,  he  fell  heavily  to  the  floor. 

"Oi  gewoldt!"  Abe  exclaimed.  He  rushed  to  the 
office  for  a  glass  of  water,  but  even  before  he  had 
reached  the  cooler  he  stopped  suddenly.  A  great 
wailing  cry  came  from  the  showroom  and  when  he 
ran  back  with  the  water  a  bearded  old  man  lay 
prostrate  across  Harkavy 's  body. 

Only  Miss  Cohen,  the  bookkeeper,  kept  a  clear 
head  during  the  confusion  that  followed.  She  des 
patched  Nathan,  the  shipping  clerk,  for  a  doctor  and 
directed  her  frightened  employers  to  loosen  the  shirt- 
bands  of  the  unconscious  men. 

"  Some  whiskey ! "  Morris  shouted  —  and  one"of  the 
cutters  produced  it  bashfully  from  his  hip-pocket. 

"Never  try  to  force  whiskey  on  a  fainting  person," 
Miss  Cohen  cried.  "It  might  get  into  their  lungs 
and  suffocate  'em." 


BROTHERS  ALL  273 

"I  wasn't  going  to,"  Morris  said  hastily,  as  he 
took  a  yeoman's  pull  at  the  bottle.  "I  am  feeling 
faint  myself." 

66  Mir  auch"  Abe  said,  taking  the  bottle  from  his 
partner's  grasp.  After  a  refreshing  draught  he 
passed  it  on  to  Pincus,  who  returned  it  empty  to  the 
crestfallen  cutter  just  as  a  physician  dashed  out  of 
the  elevator. 

"What  caused  this  trouble?"  he  asked  Abe  as  he 
knelt  down  by  the  side  of  Harkavy. 

Abe  looked  helplessly  at  Morris  and  turned 
to  Pincus  Levin,  who  commenced  to  tremble 
violently. 

"Hold  on  there!"  Morris  shouted.  "He's  going 
to  faint  too." 

Abe  seized  the  glass  of  ice-water  and  flung  its 
contents  into  Pincus  Levin's  face.  He  gasped  and 
sat  down  suddenly. 

"The  old  man,"  he  murmured,  "he's  Yosel's 
father." 

"Yosel  who?"  Morris  shouted.  "The  old  man's 
only  got  one  son  —  and  he's  dead." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  Pincus  answered;  "he  is  and  he 
ain't.  I  always  thought  so  too,  Mr.  Perlmutter, 
but  this  feller  here  is  Yosel  Levin  which  he  got  blew 
up  in  Harkav  two  years  ago." 

"What  d'ye  mean  got  blew  up?"  Abe  asked  as  the 
doctor  worked  steadily  over  the  two  prostrate  men. 
"How  could  he  be  blew  up  if  he  is  here  now?" 


274  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Pincus  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"How  should  I  know?"  he  said  weakly.  "I 
ain't  lying  to  you.  This  feller  here  is  Yosel  Levin 
and  my  uncle  there  is  his  father." 

"Do  you  mean  to  told  me  that  the  old  man's 
son  ain't  dead  at  all?"  Morris  demanded. 

"Seemingly,"  Pincus  said;  "aber  this  is  the  first 
time  I  heard  it  and  I  guess  it's  the  first  time  the  old 
man  heard  it  too." 

Harkavy  moaned  and  tried  to  sit  up. 

"Easy  there!"  the  doctor  commanded.  "Two 
of  you  take  him  inside  and  put  him  on  a  lounge  if 
you  have  one." 

Abe  and  Morris  followed  Pincus  and  the  head  cut 
ter  as  they  supported  the  half-conscious  Harkavy 
into  the  firm's  office.  Ten  minutes  later  the  old 
man  was  restored  to  consciousness. 

"/Fo  ist  er?"     he  murmured.     "  Mcin  kind!" 

"It's  all  right,"  the  doctor  replied,  and  then  he 
turned  to  the  office.  "Come  out  here,  you,  and 
talk  to  the  old  man." 

Pincus  came  running  from  the  office  and  reassured 
his  uncle,  who,  under  the  ministrations  of  the  doctor, 
grew  rapidly  stronger  until  he  was  sufficiently  recov 
ered  to  be  placed  on  a  chair. 

"Keep  him  quiet  while  I  attend  to  the  other  fel 
low,"  said  the  doctor;  "and  don't  let  him  talk." 

He  went  at  once  to  the  office,  where  Harkavy  sat 
on  the  edge  of  the  lounge. 


BROTHERS  ALL  275 

"Here!  What  are  you  doing?"  he  cried.  "You 
shouldn't  let  that  fellow  do  any  talking." 

"That's  all  right,  doctor,"  Abe  said  calmly.  "He 
should  go  on  talking  now  if  it  would  kill  him  even. 
Go  ahead,  Harkavy." 

"And  so,"  Harkavy  continued,  "after  I  am  steal 
ing  the  wine  they  took  me  to  the  police  office. 
There  was  a  place!  But,  anyhow,  Mr.  Potash,  I 
could  tell  you  all  about  it  afterward.  Inside  the 
backyard  was  a  dead  moujik  which  he  is  got  run 
over  by  a  train.  His  face  is  all  damaged  so  you 
couldn't  tell  who  he  was  at  all." 

He  faltered  and  waved  his  hand. 

"Give  me,  please,  a  glass  water,"  he  said,  and  the 
doctor  seized  his  hand. 

"Never  mind!"  Abe  cried  inexorably.  "Leave  him 
alone,  doctor.  He  should  finish  what  he's  got  to  say." 

Harkavy  nodded  and  sipped  some  water. 

"Then  comes  the  package  for  the  chief  of  police," 
he  went  on;  "and  they  put  it  first  in  a  pail  of  water. 
Then  they  open  it,  Mr.  Potash,  and  it  don't  harm 
nobody;  but  them  roshers  want  to  put  it  on  to  some 
body,  so  they  make  me  a  proposition  they  would 
give  me  a  couple  hundred  rubles  and  a  ticket  to 
America  —  and  I  took  'em  up.  For  stealing  that 
wine  I  could  get  five  years  yet;  so  what  should  I  do? 
They  give  me  the  money  and  I  run  away;  and  the 
dead  moujik  they  are  telling  everybody  is  me, 
which  I  am  blew  up  to  pieces  by  the  package." 


276  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"And  you  let  the  old  man  bury  the  moujik  and 
think  it  was  you?"  Morris  asked. 

Harkavy  nodded. 

"Over  and  over  again  he  is  telling  me  I  am  no  good 
and  he  wishes  I  was  dead,"  he  said.  "I  wish  I  was, 
Mr.  Perlmutter  —  I  wish  I  was!" 

He  commenced  to  cry  weakly  and  Morris  handed 
him  the  water. 

"But  when  I  hear  last  week  the  old  man,  my 
father,  is  here,"  he  continued,  "I  couldn't  help 
myself  —  I  am  hanging  around  Madison  Street 
trying  I  should  get  one  look  at  him  only.  I  didn't 
see  him  till  just  now." 

He  struggled  to  raise  himself  from  the  lounge. 

"Let  me  go  to  him,"  he  wailed;  "let  me  go!" 

Abe  looked  inquiringly  at  the  doctor,  who  nodded 
in  reply. 

"Let  him  go,"  he  said.  "Happiness  never 
harmed  anybody  yet." 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  United  States  Commis 
sioner  as  he  sat  behind  his  shabby  desk  in  the  Post- 
office  Building,  "the  prisoner  is  in  the  marshal's 
office.  Shall  he  be  brought  in?" 

He  addressed  his  question  to  Mr.  Munjoy,  who  was 
seated  between  Henry  D.  Feldman  and  Steuer- 
mann  at  one  side  of  a  huge  table.  Opposite  them 
were  the  clerk  of  the  Russian  Consulate  and  his 
counsel,  who  was  obviously  nervous  at  the  formidable 


BROTHERS  ALL  277 

appearance  presented  by  the  lawyer,  Henry  D. 
Feldman. 

The  latter  was  about  to  pull  off  —  as  in  his  col 
loquial  moments  he  himself  would  have  expressed 
it  —  a  rotten  trick  on  his  fellow  counsel;  for  Abe 
and  Morris  had  not  informed  either  Mr.  Munjoy 
or  Mr.  Steuermann  of  the  stirring  scene  in  their 
showroom  that  morning.  Instead,  they  had  called 
on  Feldman,  who,  with  the  dramatic  intuition  of  the 
effective  jury  lawyer,  saw  an  opportunity  for  a  coup 
that  would  at  once  gain  the  admiration  and  respect, 
if  not  the  legal  business,  of  Moses  M.  Steuermann 
and  procure  Feldman  a  column  and  a  half  of  pub 
licity  in  next  day's  paper.  Hence  he  had  sworn 
Abe  and  Morris  to  secrecy  in  consideration  of  mak 
ing  no  charge  for  his  services,  since  he  deemed  the 
accruing  benefit  to  be  worth  at  least  two  hundred 
dollars. 

"Shall  he  be  brought  in,  gentlemen?"  the  com 
missioner  asked. 

Counsel  for  the  Russian  Consulate  bowed,  as  did 
Mr.  Munjoy;  but  Henry  D.  Feldman  cleared  his 
throat  with  a  great  rasping  noise  that  penetrated  to 
the  corridor  without.  This  was  the  signal,  and  Abe 
and  Morris  entered  the  room  supporting  the  old 
Rabbi,  who  was  followed  by  Pincus  Levin. 

"One  moment,  sir,"  Feldman  said.  "I  have  a 
preliminary  objection  to  make.  Will  you  hear  the 
offer,  sir?" 


278  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

The  commissioner  nodded  and  Steuermann  and 
his  counsel  Mr.  Munjoy,  turned  to  Feldman  in 
amazement. 

"What's  all  this,  Feldman?"     Munjoy  cried. 

Feldman  waved  his  hand  impressively. 

"My  objection  is,  sir,  that  a  gross  fraud  has  been 
practised  on  this  court.  It  has  come  to  my  atten 
tion  that  somebody  connected  with  this  proceeding 
has  furnished  a  material  witness  for  the  defense  with 
a  ticket  for  Chicago  and  one  thousand  rubles  as  a 
bribe  to  stay  away  from  the  hearing." 

Counsel  for  the  complainant  jumped  to  his  feet. 

"This  is  preposterous!"  he  declared. 

"By  no  means,"  Feldman  continued.  "Will 
you  direct  counsel  not  to  interrupt  me,  sir,  if  you 
please?" 

"I  so  direct,"  the  commissioner  replied,  whereat 
Feldman  again  cleared  his  throat  and  coughed  twice, 
and,  in  answer  to  this  cue,  Yosel  Levin,  alias  Joseph 
Harkavy,  entered  the  room. 

"The  person  so  bribed,  Mr.  Commissioner,  is 
named  in  the  petition  as  the  corpus  delicti  of  the  crime 
alleged  to  have  been  committed,"  Feldman  said. 

"What!"  Munjoy  and  opposing  counsel  cried  in 
unison,  and  the  clerk  to  the  consulate  reached  for  his 
hat  and  started  for  the  door.  His  counsel  leaped  after 
him,  however,  and  succeeded  in  catching  his  coat- 
tails  just  as  he  was  about  to  disappear  into  the  hall. 

With  one  hand  still  grasping  the  consular  clerk, 


BROTHERS  ALL  279 

counsel  for  the  complainant  turned  to  the  com 
missioner. 

"I  think  my  client  wants  to  consult  me  outside 
for  one  minute,"  he  said.  "Have  I  your  consent  to 
withdraw?" 

The  commissioner  nodded  and  Munjoy  turned  to 
Feldman. 

"  What  the  deuce  are  you  trying  to  do,  Feldman?" 
he  asked  as  complainant's  counsel  returned. 

"If  the  commissioner  pleases,"  Feldman  said, 
"we  consent  to  a  dismissal  of  the  extradition  pro 
ceedings  and  to  a  discharge  of  the  prisoner." 

The  imperturbable  commissioner  bowed  and  rose 
to  his  feet. 

"Submit  the  necessary  papers  for  the  prisoner's 
discharge,  gentlemen,"  he  said.  "The  hearing  is 
closed." 

"Five  dollars  for  doing  what  that  feller  done  is 
like  picking  it  up  in  the  street,  Mawruss!"  Abe  de 
clared  to  Mawruss  when  they  received  the  doc 
tor's  bill  a  month  later. 

"How  could  we  be  small  about  it,  Abe?"  Morris 
rejoined.  "Look  at  what  Steuermann  done!  Not 
only  he  is  paying  his  lawyers  for  getting  this  Kov- 
alenko  out  of  prison  but  he  is  taking  that  young  feller 
and  paying  for  him  he  should  go  on  with  his  studying 
for  a  doctor." 

"Well,   the   way   doctors    soak   you,   Mawruss," 


28o  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

Abe  said,  looking  at  the  bill  which  he  held  in  his 
hand,  "it  wouldn't  be  long  before  Kovalenko  pays 
him  back  with  interest,  I  bet  yer." 

"But,  anyhow,  Abe,"  Morris  continued,  "now 
we  got  Yosel  Levin  working  for  us  as  cutter,  it 
would  be  a  better  feeling  all  around  supposing  we 
pay  the  bill  and  say  nothing  about  it." 

"  I  am  agreeable  we  should  say  nothing  more  about 
it,  Mawruss,"  Abe  retorted,  "because  we  already 
wasted  more  time  and  trouble  than  the  whole  thing 
is  worth;  but  one  thing  I  would  like  to  know,  Maw 
russ,  before  I  shut  up  my  mouth :  Why  did  this  here 
feller,  Yosel  Levin,  call  himself  Harkavy?" 

"Say!"  Morris  said,  using  three  inflections  to  the 
monosyllable:  "he's  got  just  so  much  right  to  call 
himself  Harkavy  as  all  them  other  guys  has  to  call 
themselves  Breslauer,  Hamburger,  Leipziger  oder 
Berliner.  He  anyhow  does  come  from  Harkav,  Abe 
—  which  you  could  take  it  from  me,  Abe,  there's 
many  a  feller  calls  himself  Hamburger  which  he  don't 
come  from  no  nearer  Hamburg  than  Vilna  oder 
Kovno." 

Abe  shrugged  his  shoulders  expressively  in  reply. 

"My  worries  where  them  fellers  comes  from, 
Mawruss!"  he  commented.  "Because,  when  it 
comes  right  down  to  it,  Mawruss,  if  a  feller  attends 
to  his  own  business,  Mawruss,  and  don't  monkey 
with  politics,  y 'understand,  where  could  he  make  a 
better  living  than  right  here  in  New  York,  N.  Y.?" 


CHAPTER  EIGHT 
"R.  S.  V.  P." 

IT  was  the  tenth  of  the  month,  and  Abe  Potash, 
of   Potash  &  Perlmutter,    was    going   through 
the  firm  mail  with  an  exploratory  thumb  and 
finger,  looking  for  checks. 

"Well,  Mawruss,"  he  said  to  his  partner,  Morris 
Perlmutter,  "all  them  hightone  customers  of  yours 
they  don't  take  it  so  particular  that  they  should  pay 
on  the  day,  Mawruss.  If  they  was  only  so  prompt 
with  checks  as  they  was  to  claim  deductions,  Maw 
russ,  you  and  me  would  have  no  worries.  I  think 
some  of  'em  finds  a  shortage  in  the  shipment  before 
they  open  the  packing-case  that  the  goods  come  in. 
Take  your  friend  Hyman  Maimin,  of  Sarahcuse  — 
nothing  suits  him.  He  always  kicks  that  the  goods 
ain't  made  up  right,  or  we  ain't  sent  him  enough 
fancies,  or  something  like  that.  Five  or  six  letters 
he  writes  us,  Mawruss,  when  he  gets  the  goods;  but 
when  he  got  to  pay  for  'em,  Mawruss,  that's  some 
thing  else  again.  You  might  think  postage  stamps  was 
solitaire  diamonds,  and  that  he  dassen't  use  'em!" 

"Quit  your  kicking,"  Perlmutter  broke  in.  "This 
is  only  the  tenth  of  the  month." 

281 


282  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"I  know  it,"  said  Abe.  "We  should  have  had  a 
check  by  the  tenth  of  last  month,  but"  —  here 
Abe's  eye  lit  upon  an  envelope  directed  in  the 
handwriting  of  Hyman  Maimin  —  "I  guess  there 
was  some  good  reason  for  the  delay,"  he  went  on 
evenly.  "Anyhow,  here's  a  letter  from  him  now." 

He  tore  open  the  envelope  and  hurriedly  removed 
the  enclosed  letter.  Then  he  took  the  envelope, 
blew  it  wide  open,  and  shook  it  up  and  down,  but 
no  check  fell  out. 

"  Did  y'ever  see  the  like  ? "  he  exclaimed.  "  Sends 
us  a  letter  and  no  check!" 

"Why,  it  ain't  a  letter,"  Morris  said.  "It's 
an  advertisement." 

Abe's  face  grew  white. 

"A  meeting  of  creditors!"  he  gasped. 

Morris  grabbed  the  missive  from  his  partner  and 
spread  it  out  on  the  table. 

"Hello!"  he  exclaimed,  a  great  smile  of  relief 
spreading  itself  about  his  ears.  "It's  a  wedding 
invitation!"  He  held  it  up  to  the  light.  "'Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Marcus  Bramson,'"  he  read,  "'request 
the  pleasure  of  Potash  &  Perlmutter's  company  at 
the  marriage  of  their  daughter  Tillie  to  Mr.  Hyman 
Maimin,  Sunday,  March  19,  at  seven  o'clock,  P.M., 
Wiedermayer's  Hall,  2099  South  Oswego  Street. 
R.S.V.P.  to  residence  of  bride,  care  of  Advance 
Credit  Clothing  Company,  2097  South  Oswego 
Street.'" 


"R.  S.  V.  P."  283 

"What  is  that  'R.S.V.P.  to  residence  of  bride'?" 
Abe  Potash  asked. 

Morris  reflected  for  a  moment. 

"That  means,"  he  said  at  length,  "that  we  should 
know  where  to  send  the  present  to." 

"How  do  you  make  that  out?"  said  Abe. 

"'R.S.V.P.',"  Morris  replied,  emphasizing  each 
letter  with  a  motion  of  his  hand,  "means  'Remember 
to  send  vedding  present.": 

"But,"  Abe  rejoined,  "when  I  went  to  night 
school,  we  spelt  'wedding'  v/ith  a  W. 

"A  greenhorn  like  Maimin,"  said  Morris,  "don't 
know  no  better." 

"He  knows  enough  to  ask  for  a  wedding  present, 
Mawruss,"  Abe  commented,  "even  if  he  don't 
know  how  to  spell  it.  We'll  send  him  a  wedding 
present,  Mawruss!  We'll  send  him  a  summons 
from  the  court,  that's  what  we'll  send  him!" 

Morris   shook  his  head. 

"That  ain't  no  way  to  talk,  Abe,"  he  said.  "If 
a  customer  gets  married,  we  got  to  send  him  a  wed 
ding  present.  It  don't  cost  much,  and  if  Hyman 
Maimin  gets  a  couple  of  thousand  dollars  with  this 
Miss  —  Miss " 

"Advance  Credit  Clothing  Company,"  Abe 
helped  out. 

Morris  nodded. 

"Then  he  buys  more  goods,  ain't  it?"  he  con 
cluded. 


284  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Let  him  pay  for  what  he's  got,"  Abe  rejoined. 

"It  just  slipped  his  mind.  He'll  pay  up  fast 
enough,  after  he  gets  married." 

"All  right!  Wait  till  he  pays  up,  and  then  we'll 
give  him  a  present." 

"Now  lookyhere,  Abe,"  Morris  protested,  "  you 
can't  be  small  in  a  matter  of  this  kind.  I'll  draw 
a  check  for  twenty-five  dollars,  and " 

"Twenty-five  dollars!"  Abe  screamed.  "You're 
crazy!  When  you  was  married  last  year,  I'd  like 
to  know  who  gives  you  a  present  for  twenty-five 
dollars?" 

"Why  you  did,  Abe,"  Morris  replied. 

"Me?"  Abe  cried.  "Say,  Mawruss,  I  want  to 
tell  you  something.  If  you  can  buy  a  fine  sterling 
silver  bumbum  dish,  like  what  I  give  you,  for 
twenty-five  dollars,  I'll  take  it  off  your  hands  for 
twenty-seven-fifty  any  day!" 

"But,   Abe " 

"Another  thing,  Mawruss,"  Abe  went  on.  "If 
you  don't  like  that  dish,  there  ain't  no  law  com 
pelling  you  to  keep  it,  you  understand.  Send  it 
back.  My  Rosie  can  use  it.  Maybe  we  ain't  so 
stylish  like  your  Minnie,  Mawruss;  but  if  we  don't 
have  bumbums  every  day,  we  could  put  dill  pickles 
into  it!" 

"One  moment,"  Morris  protested.  "I  ain't  say 
ing  anything  about  that  bumbum  dish,  Abe.  All 
I  meant  that  if  you  give  me  such  a  high-price  present 


"R.  S.  V.  P."  285 

when  7  get  married,  that's  all  the  more  reason  why 
we  should  give  a  high-price  present  to  a  customer 
what  we  will  make  money  on.  I  ain't  no  customer, 
Abe." 

"I  know  you  ain't,"  said  Abe.  "You're  only  a 
partner,  and  I  don't  make  no  money  on  you, 
neither." 

Morris  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"What's  the  use  of  wasting  more  time  about  it, 
Abe?"  he  said.  <:Go  ahead  and  buy  a  present." 

"Me  buy  it?"  Abe  cried.  "You  know  yourself, 
Mawruss,  I  ain't  a  success  with  presents.  You 
draw  the  check  and  get  your  Minnie  to  buy  it. 
She's  an  up-to-date  woman,  Mawruss,  while  my 
Rosie  is  a  back  number.  She  don't  know  nothing 
but  to  keep  a  good  house,  Mawruss.  Sterling 
silver  bumbum  dishes  she  don't  know,  Mawruss. 
If  I  took  her  advice,  you  wouldn't  got  no  bum- 
bum  dish.  Nut-picks,  Mawruss,  from  the  five-and- 
ten-cent  store,  that's  what  you'd  got.  You  might 
appreciate  them, Mawruss;  but  a  sterling  silver " 

At  this  juncture  Morris  took  refuge  in  the  outer 
office,  where  Miss  Cohen,  the  bookkeeper,  was 
taking  off  her  wraps. 

"Miss  Cohen,"  he  said,  "draw  a  check  for  twenty- 
five  dollars  to  bearer,  and  enter  it  up  as  a  gratifica 
tion  to  Hyman  Maimin." 

At  dinner  that  evening  Morris  handed  the  check 
over  to  his  wife. 


286  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Here  Minnie,"  he  said,  "Abe  wants  you  should 
buy  a  wedding  present  for  a  customer." 

"What  kind  of  a  wedding  present?"  Mrs.  Perl- 
mutter  asked. 

"Something  in  solid  sterling  silver,  like  that 
bumbum  dish  what  Abe  gave  us." 

"But,  Mawruss,"  she  protested,  "you  know  we 
got  that  bonbon  dish  locked  away  in  the  sideboard, 
and  we  never  take  it  out.  Let's  give  'em  some 
thing  useful." 

"Suit  yourself,"  Morris  replied.  "Only  don't 
bother  me  about  it." 

"All  right,"  Mrs. Perlmutter  said.  "Leave  me  the 
name  and  address,  and  I'll  see  that  they  send  it  direct 
from  the  store.  I'll  put  one  of  your  cards  inside." 

"And  another  thing,"  Morris  concluded.  "See 
that  you  don't  hold  nothing  out  on  us  by  way  of 


commission." 


Mrs.  Perlmutter  smiled  serenely. 
"I  won't,"  she  said,  in  dulcet  tones. 

It  was  the  fourth  day  after  Potash  &  Perlmutter's 
receipt  of  the  wedding  invitation.  When  Morris 
Perlmutter  entered  the  private  office  he  found  Abe 
Potash  in  the  absorbed  perusal  of  the  Daily  Cloak 
and  Suit  Record.  Abe  looked  up  and  saluted  his 
partner  with  a  malignant  grin. 

"Well,  Mawruss,"  he  said,  "I  suppose  you  sent 
that  present  to  Hyman  Maimin?" 


"R.  S.  V.  P."  287 

"I  sent  it  off  long  since  already,"  Morris  replied. 

"I  hope  it  was  a  nice  one,  Mawruss,"  Abe  went 
on  "I  hope  it  was  a  real  nice  one.  I'm  sorry  now, 
Mawruss,  we  didn't  spend  fifty  dollars.  That 
would  have  made  it  an  even  seven  hundred,  instead 
of  only  six  hundred  and  seventy-five,  that  Hyman 
Maimin  owed  us." 

"What  d'ye  mean?"  cried  Morris. 

"I  don't  mean  nothing,  Mawruss  —  nothing 
at  all,"  Abe  said,  with  ironical  emphasis.  He 
handed  the  paper  to  Morris.  "Here,  look  for 
yourself!" 

He  pointed  with  a  trembling  forefinger  at  the 
"business-troubles"  column,  and  Morris's  eyes 
seemed  to  bulge  out  of  his  head  as  he  scanned  the 
printed  page: 

A  petition  [in  bankruptcy  was  filed  late  yesterday  afternoon 
against  Hyman  Maimin,  83  West  Tonawanda  Street,  Syracuse. 
It  is  claimed  that  he  transferred  assets  to  the  amount  of  eight 
thousand  dollars  last  week.  Mr.  Maimin  says  that  he  has  been 
doing  business  at  a  heavy  loss  of  late,  but  that  he  hopes  to  be 
able  to  resume.  A  settlement  of  thirty  cents  is  proposed. 

Morris  sat  down  in  a  revolving-chair  too  crushed 
for  comment,  and  drummed  with  a  lead  pencil  on 
the  desk. 

"I  wonder  if  he  done  up  his  intended  father-in- 
law,  too?"  he  said  at  length. 

"No  fear  of  that,  Mawruss,"  Abe  replied.  "He 
ain't  no  sucker  like  us,  Mawruss.  I  bet  you  his 
father-in-law  —  what's  his  name " 


288  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"The  Advance  Credit  Clothing  Company,"  Mor 
ris  suggested. 

"Sure,"  Abe  went  on.  "I  bet  you  this  clothing 
concern  says  to  him:  'If  you  want  to  marry  my 
daughter,  you  gotter  go  into  bankruptcy  first. 
Then,  when  you're  all  cleaned  up,  I'll  give  you  a 
couple  of  thousand  dollars  to  start  as  a  new  beginner 
in  another  line.'  Ain't  it?" 

Morris  nodded  gloomily. 

"No,  Mawruss,"  Abe  continued.  "I  bet  you 
his  father-in-law  is  a  big  crook  like  himself." 

He  rose  to  his  feet  and  opened  the  large  green- 
and-red  covered  book  furnished  by  the  commercial 
agency  to  which  they  subscribed. 

"I'm  going  to  do  now,  Mawruss,  what  you  should 
have  done  before  you  sent  that  present,"  he  said. 
"I'm  going  to  look  up  this  here  Advance  Credit 
Clothing  Company.  I  bet  you  he  ain't  even  in  the 
book  —  what?" 

Before  Morris  could  reply,  the  letter-carrier 
entered  with  the  morning  mail.  While  Abe  con 
tinued  to  run  his  thumb  down  the  columns  of  the 
commercial  agency  book,  Morris  began  to  open 
the  envelopes.  Both  their  heads  were  bent  over 
their  tasks,  when  an  exclamation  arose  simul 
taneously  from  each. 

"Now,  what  d'ye  think  of  that?"  said  Abe. 

"Did  y'  ever  see  anything  like  it?"  Morris 
cried. 


"R.  S.  V.  P."  289 

"What  is  it?"  Abe  asked. 

For  answer,  Morris  thrust  a  letter  into  his  part 
ner's  hand.  It  was  headed,  "The  Advance  Credit 
Clothing  Company — Marcus  Bramson,  Proprietor," 
and  read  as  follows: 

MESSRS.  POTASH  &  PERLMUTTER. 
GENTS: 

Your  shipment  of  the  5th  is  to  hand,  and  in  reply  would  say 
that  we  are  returning  it  via  Blue  Line  on  account  Miss  Tillie 
Bramson's  engagement  is  broken.     We  understand  that  lowlife 
H.  Maimin  got  into  you  for  six  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.   Believe 
me,  he  done  us  for  more  than  that.     Our  Mr.  Bramson  will  be  in 
New  York  shortly,  and  will  call  to  look  at  your  line.    Hoping  we 
will  be  able  to  do  business  with  you, 
Yours  truly, 
THE  ADVANCE  CREDIT  CLOTHING  COMPANY, 

PerT.  B. 

Abe  Potash  laid  down  the  letter  with  a  sigh,  while 
his  thumb  still  rested  caressingly  on  the  open  page 
of  the  mercantile  agency  book. 

"So  he's  going  to  send  back  the  present!"  he 
said.  "That  man  Marcus  Bramson,  proprietor, 
has  a  big  heart,  Mawruss.  He's  a  man  with  fine 
feelings  and  a  fine  disposition,  Mawruss.  He's  got 
a  fine  rating  too,  Mawruss  —  seventy-five  to  a 
hundred  thousand,  first  credit!"  He  closed  the 
book  almost  lovingly.  "D'ye  think  they  would 
give  the  money  back  for  that  present,  Mawruss?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Morris.  "Minnie  bought 
it,  and  she  told  me  it  was  a  big  bargain.  It  was  a 
sale,  she  said,  but  I  guess  they'll  take  it  back." 


2go  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"What  did  it  look  like?"  Abe  said. 

"I  didn't  see  it,"  Morris  replied.  "They  sent 
it  direct  from  the  store,  but  I  took  Minnie's  word 
for  it.  She  said  it  was  fine  value." 

"And  Minnie,"  Abe  concluded,  "is  a  fine,  up- 
to-date  woman. " 

Two  days  later,  Abe  Potash  spotted  the  name  of 
Marcus  Bramson  in  the  "Arrival  of  Buyers"  col 
umn  of  a  morning  newspaper. 

"Mawruss,"  he  cried,  "he's  come!" 

"Who's  come?"  Morris  asked. 

"Marcus  Bramson,"  Abe  replied,  reaching  for 
his  hat.  "I'm  going  over  to  the  Bingler  House  now 
to  meet  him.  You  wait  here  till  I  come  back.  I  bet 
you  we  sell  him  a  big  bill  of  goods!" 

As  Abe  went  out  of  the  store  by  the  front  door,  an 
expressman,  bearing  a  square  wooden  box,  entered 
the  rear  alley.  He  brought  the  package  straight 
to  Miss  Cohen,  who  signed  a  receipt,  and  summoned 
Mr.  Perlmutter.  Morris  proceeded  to  pry  off  the 
cover. 

"This  is  something  what  Mrs.  Perlmutter  bought 
for  HymanMaimin's  wedding  present,"  he  explained. 
"I  ain't  never  seen  it  yet." 

He  pulled  out  a  number  of  wads  of  tissue  paper. 
When  he  finally  reached  a  piece  of  silverware,  he 
turned  the  box  upside  down  and  shook  out  the 
remainder  of  its  contents  upon  a  sample  table. 


"R.  S.  V.  P."  291 

"Oh,  Mr.  Perlmutter,"  Miss  Cohen  exclaimed, 
clasping  her  hands,  "what  a  beautiful  bonbon  dish! 
What  a  lovely  wedding  present!" 

Morris  looked  at  the  bonbon  dish,  and  beads 
of  perspiration  started  on  his  forehead. 

"Ain't  Mrs.  Perlmutter  got  good  taste!  Miss 
Cohen  went  on  enthusiastically. 

Morris  said  nothing,  but  picked  up  the  silver 
dish.  Examining  the  polished  centre  carefully,  he 
discerned  the  indistinct  initials  "M.  P."  almost 
but  not  quite  effaced  by  buffing.  Undoubtedly  it 
was  the  same  bonbon  dish. 

He  gathered  up  the  tissue  paper  and  carefully 
arranged  it  in  the  box  as  a  bed  for  the  silver  dish. 
Then  he  put  the  cover  on,  and  nailed  it  down. 

"Ain't  you  going  to  let  Mr.  Potash  see  it?" 
Miss  Cohen  asked.  "He  ain't  never  seen  it  before, 
neither,  has  he?" 

Morris    frowned. 

"I  think  he  has,"  he  replied.  "Anyhow,  I'm 
going  to  send  it  right  uptown  by  messenger  boy." 

"Do  you  think  they'll  exchange  it?"  Miss  Cohen 
inquired. 

"Oh,  I  guess  it  will  be  put  back  in  stock  all  right," 
said  Morris,  turning  away. 

The  next  morning,  when  Morris  entered  the 
store,  Abe  was  busy  figuring  on  the  back  of  a  torn 
envelope. 


292  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Hello,  Mawruss!"  he  cried,  looking  up.  "Ain't 
it  beautiful  weather?" 

Morris  agreed  that  it  was. 

"That  Mr.  Bramson,"  Abe  went  on,  "that's  one 
fine  gentleman,  Mawruss.  He  ain't  what  you'd 
call  a  close  buyer,  neither,  Mawruss. " 

"No?"  Morris  commented. 

"The  way  I  figure  it,"  Abe  continued,  "reckon 
ing  on  what  we  lost  by  Hyman  Maimin,  if  he  settles 
for  thirty  cents,  and  what  we  make  out  of  Mr. 
Bramson's  first  order,  we  come  out  even  to  the 
dollar!" 

"So?"  Morris  murmured. 

"All  excepting  that  wedding  present,  Mawruss," 
Abe.  "By  the  way,  Mawruss,  ain't  that  wed 
ding  present  come  back  yet?" 

"Why,  sure,"  said  Morris.  "It  come  back  yes 
terday,  when  you  were  out. " 

"Why  ain't  you  showed  it  to  me?  Ain't  I  got  no 
right  to  see  it,  Mawruss?" 

"Of  course  you  got  a  right  to  see  it,"  Morris 
assented,  "but  I  thought  I'd  get  it  right  up  town  to 
Minnie  and  have  it  exchanged. " 

"And  did  she  exchange  it?"  Abe  asked. 

"Well,  it's  like  this,"  Morris  explained.  "Min 
nie  liked  it  so  well  that  she  decided  on  keeping  it, 
so  I'll  give  the  firm  my  personal  check  for  twenty- 
five  dollars." 

Abe  puffed  hard  on  his  cigar. 


"R.  S.  V.  P."  293 

"You're  a  purty  generous  feller,  Mawruss," 
he  commented,  "to  give  Minnie  a  present  like 
that  —  for  nothing  at  all,  ain't  it?" 

"Oh,  no,  I  ain't  Abe,"  Morris  replied.  "I  ain't 
giving  it  to  her  for  nothing  at  all.  I'm  taking  it 
out  of  her  housekeeping  money,  Abe  —  five  dollars 
a  month!" 


CHAPTER  NINE 
FIRING  MISS  COHEN 

f  |  ^HERE'S  no  use  talking,  Abe,"  Morns 
1  Perlmutter  [declared  to  his  partner,  Abe 
Potash,  as  they  sat  in  the  sample-room 
of  their  spacious  cloak-and-suit  establishment. 
"We  got  a  system  of  bookkeeping  that  would  dis 
grace  a  peanut-stand.  Here's  a  statement  from 
the  Hamsuckett  Mills,  and  it  shows  a  debit  balance 
of  eleven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  what  we  owe 
them.  Miss  Cohen's  figures  is  eleven  hundred 
and  forty-two. " 

"That's  in  our  favour  already,"  Abe  replied. 
"The  Hamsuckett  people  must  be  wrong,  Mawruss." 

"No,  they  ain't,  Abe,"  Morris  said.  "It's  Miss 
Cohen's  mistake. " 

"Mistake?"  Abe  exclaimed.  "When  it's  in  our 
favour,  Mawruss,  it  ain't  no  mistake!" 

"It's  a  mistake,  anyhow,  no  matter  in  whose 
favour  it  is,"  said  Morris.  "Miss  Cohen's  footing 
was  wrong.  She  gets  carelesser  every  day." 

"I'm  surprised  to  hear  you  that  you  should  talk 
that  way,  Mawruss, "  Abe  rejoined.  "Miss  Cohen's 

294 


FIRING  MISS   COHEN  295 

been  with  us  for  five  years,  and  we  ain't  lost 
nothing  by  her,  neither.  You  know  as  well  as  I 
do,  Mawruss,  her  uncle,  Max  Cohen,  is  a  good 
customer  of  ours.  Only  last  week  he  bought  of 
us  a  big  bill  of  goods,  Mawruss." 

"Just  the  same,  Abe,"  Morris  went  on,  "if  we 
get  a  bright  young  man  in  there,  instead  of  Miss 
Cohen,  it  would  be  a  big  improvement.  We  ought 
to  get  some  one  in  there  what  can  manage  a  double 
entry,  and  can  run  a  card-index  for  our  credits." 

Abe  puffed  vigorously  at  his  cigar. 

"  I  suppose,  Mawruss,  if  we  got  a  card-index  and 
we  sell  a  crook  a  bill  of  goods,"  he  commented, 
"and  the  crook  busts  up  on  us,  Mawruss,  that  card- 
index  is  going  to  stop  him  from  sticking  us  —  what? 
Well,  Mawruss,  if  you  want  to  put  in  a  young 
feller  and  fire  Miss  Cohen,  go  ahead  —  I'm  satisfied. " 

As  if  to  clinch  the  matter  before  his  partner  could 
retract  this  somewhat  grudging  consent,  Morris 
Perlmutter  stalked  out  of  the  sample-room  and 
made  resolutely  for  the  glass-enclosed  office,  where 
Miss  Cohen  was  busy  writing  in  a  ledger.  She 
looked  up  as  he  entered,  and  surveyed  him  calmly 
with  her  large  black  eyes. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Perlmutter!"  she  said  when  he  came 
within  ear-shot,  "Uncle  Max  was  round  to  the 
house  last  night,  and  he  wants  you  should  dupli 
cate  them  forty-twenty-twos  in  his  last  order  and 
ship  at  once." 


296"  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Morris  stopped  short.  This  was  something  he 
had  not  foreseen,  and  all  his  well-formulated  plans 
for  the  firing  of  Miss  Cohen  were  shattered  at  once. 

"Oh!"  he  said  lamely.  "Thank  you,  Miss  Cohen; 
I'll  make  a  memorandum  of  it. "  He  went  over  to 
the  commercial  agency  book  and  scanned  three  or 
four  pages  with  an  unseeing  eye.  Then  he  repaired 
to  the  sample  room,  where  Abe  sat  finishing  his  cigar. 

"Well,  Mawruss,"  said  Abe,  his  face  wreathed 
in  a  malicious  grin,  "you  made  a  quick  job  of  it. " 

Morris  scowled. 

"I  ain't  spoken  to  her  yet,"  he  grunted.  "I 
got  a  little  gumption,  Abe  —  a  little  consideration, 
and  common  sense.  I  don't  throw  out  my  dirty 
water  until  I  get  clean. " 

Abe  puffed  slowly  before  replying. 

"I  seen  some  people,  Mawruss,"  he  said,  "what 
sometimes  throws  out  perfectly  clean  water,  and 
gets  some  dirty  water  in  exchange,  Mawruss." 
He  threw  away  the  stump  of  his  cigar. 

"Sometimes,  Mawruss,"  he  concluded  solemnly, 
"they  gets  a  good,  big  souse,  Mawruss,  where  they 
least  expect  it." 

Ike  Feinsilver,  city  salesman  for  the  Hamsuckett 
Mills  —  Goldner  &  Plotkin,  proprietors  —  was  ob 
viously  his  own  ideal  of  a  well-dressed  man.  His 
shirts  and  waistcoats  represented  a  taste  as  original 
as  it  was  not  subdued  j  but  it  was  in  the  selection 


FIRING  MISS   COHEN  297 

of  his  neckties  that  he  really  excelled.  Abe  and 
Morris  fairly  blinked  as  they  surveyed  his  latest 
acquisition  in  cravats  when  he  entered  the  door  of 
their  store  that  afternoon,  smiling  a  pleasant  greet 
ing  at  his  prospective  customers. 

He  presented  so  brilliant  a  picture  that  Miss 
Cohen  was  drawn  from  her  desk  in  the  glass-en 
closed  office  toward  the  trio  in  the  sample  room  as 
inevitably  as  the  moth  to  the  candle  flame.  She 
took  up  some  cutting  slips  from  a  table,  by  way  of 
excuse  for  her  intrusion,  but  the  blush  and  smile 
with  which  she  acknowledged  Ike's  rather  perfunc 
tory  nod  betrayed  her.  Abe  was  fingering  the 
Hamsuckett  swatches,  but  Miss  Cohen's  embar 
rassment  did  not  escape  Morris  Perlmutter.  He 
marked  it  with  an  inward  start,  and  immediately 
conceived  a  brilliant  idea. 

"  Ike, "  he  said,  when  Abe  had  completed  the  giving 
of  a  small  order  and  had  left  them  alone  together, 
"a  young  feller  like  you  ought  to  get  married." 

Ike  was  non-committal. 

"Sure  Mawruss,"  he  replied.  "Every  young 
feller  ought  to  get  married. " 

"I'm  glad  you  look  at  it  so  sensible,  Ike,"  Morris 
went  on.  "Getting  married  right,  Ike,  has  been 
the  making  of  many  a  young  feller.  Where  d'ye 
suppose  Goldner  &  Plotkin  would  be  to-day  if 
they  hadn't  got  married  right?  They'd  be  selling 
goods  for  somebody  else,  Ike.  But  Goldner,  he 


298  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

married  Bella  Frazinsky,  with  a  couple  of  thousand 
dollars  maybe;  and  Plotkin,  he  goes  to  work  and 
gets  Garfunkel's  sister  —  she  was  pretty  old,  Ike; 
but  if  she  ain't  got  a  fine  complexion,  Ike,  she  got 
a  couple  of  thousand  dollars,  too,  ain't  it?  Well, 
Plotkin  with  his  two  thousand  and  Goldner  with  his 
two  thousand,  they  start  in  together  as  new  beginners. 
They  gets  the  selling  agency  for  the  Hamsuckett 
people,  and  then  they  makes  big  money  and  buys 
them  out.  To-day  Goldner  &  Plotkin  is  rich  men, 
and  all  because  they  got  married  right!" 

Feinsilver  listened  with  parted  lips. 

"And  now,  Ike,"  Morris  continued,  "the  good 
seed  sown,  we  talked  enough,  ain't  it?  Come  on 
to  the  office.  I  want  to  show  you  some  little  mis 
takes  in  the  Hamsuckett  statement." 

He  conducted  Ike  to  the  glass-enclosed  office, 
where  Miss  Cohen  bent  low  over  her  ledger.  The 
blush  with  which  she  had  received  Ike's  greeting 
had  not  entirely  disappeared;  and,  as  she  glanced 
up,  her  large  black  eyes  looked  like  those  of  a  fright 
ened  deer.  Morris  was  forced  to  admit  to  himself 
that  if  her  bookkeeping  was  doubtful,  at  least  there 
could  be  no  mistake  about  her  charms.  As  for 
Ike,  now  that  the  business  of  securing  orders  was 
done  with,  he  surrendered  himself  to  gallantry,  for 
which  he  had  a  natural  aptitude. 

"Ah,  Miss  Cohen,"  he  said,  "ain't  it  a  fine 
weather?" 


FIRING  MISS  COHEN  299 

A  pleased  smile  spread  itself  over  Morris's 
face. 

"I  think  I  hear  the  telephone  in  the  sample 
room,"  he  broke  in  hurriedly.  " Excuse  me  for  a 


moment. ' 


When  he  returned,  Ike  and  Miss  Cohen  were 
chatting  gaily. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that?"  Morris  cried. 
"My  Minnie  just  rang  me  up  and  says  she  got 
tickets  for  the  theayter  to-morrow  night  —  two 
tickets.  We  can't  use  'em,  because  we're  going 
to  a  —  a  wedding.  Would  you  two  young  folks  like 
to  go,  maybe?" 

"Why,  sure,"  Ike  said.  "Sure  we  would. 
Wouldn't  we,  Miss  Cohen?" 

Miss  Cohen  assented  bashfully. 

"Well,  then, "  said  Morris,  " I'll  get  'em  for  you  — 
I  mean  I'll  send  'em  you  by  mail  to-night,  Ike. " 

Ike  was  profuse  in  his  thanks;  and  then  and  there 
arranged  to  call  for  Miss  Cohen  at  half-past  seven, 
sharp,  the  following  evening. 

Morris  beamed  his  approval  and  shook  hands 
heartily  with  Ike  as  the  latter  turned  to  leave. 

"How  about  that  mistake  in  the  statement?" 
Ike  asked. 

"Some  other  time,"  said  Morris,  waHdng  with 
Ike  toward  the  store-door.  Then  he  sank  his 
voice  to  a  confidential  whisper.  "That's  a  fine  girl, 
Miss  Cohen,"  he  went  on.  "Comes  of  fine  family, 


300  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

too.  She's  Max  Cohen's  niece..  You  know  Max 
Cohen.  He's  the  Beacon  Credit  Outfitting  Com 
pany.  He's  a  millionaire,  Ike.  If  he's  worth  a 
cent,  he's  worth  a  hundred  thousand  dollars!" 

Ike  turned  on  him  an  awed  yet  searching  look 
as  they  clasped  hands  again  in  parting. 

"I  give  you  my  word,  Ike,  she's  his  favourite 
niece,"  Morris  concluded,  "and  he  ain't  got  no 
children  of  his  own." 

The  ensuing  week  was  a  busy  one  for  all  con 
cerned.  Abe  was  occupied  in  the  store  with  an 
unusual  rush  of  spring  trade,  Morris  had  his  hands 
full  in  the  office  and  cutting-room;  but  Miss  Cohen 
and  Ike  Feinsilver  had  been  busiest  of  all,  for  in 
less  than  six  days  after  their  visit  to  the  theatre 
a  solitaire  diamond-ring  sparkled  on  the  third  finger 
of  the  lady's  left  hand. 

"Well,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said  ten  days  later,  "I 
suppose  you  fired  Miss  Cohen?" 

"Me  fire  Miss  Cohen?"  Morris  exclaimed.  "I'm 
surprised  to  hear  you  that  you  should  talk  that 
way,  Abe.  What  for  should  I  fire  Miss  Cohen?" 

"Why,  last  week  you  said  you  was  going  to  fire 
her,  ain't  it?" 

"Last  week,"  Morris  replied,  "was  another  day. 
If  I  ain't  got  no  more  sense  than  that  I  should  go 
to  a  fine  young  lady  like  Miss  Cohen,  and  say, 
'Miss  Cohen,  you're  fired,'  after  she  worked  for 


FIRING  MISS  COHEN  301 

us  five  years,  and  her  uncle  also  a  good  customer, 
I  should  be  sorry,  Abe." 

"Then,  we're  going  to  keep  her,  after  all  — 
what?"  Abe  said. 

"No,  we  ain't  going  to  keep  her,"  said  Morris. 
"We're  going  to  lose  her." 

"Lose  her!     What  d'ye  mean?" 

Morris  smiled  in  a  superior  way. 

"Abe,"  he  said,  "you  ain't  got  no  eyes  in  your 
head.  Ain't  you  noticed  that  ring  on  Miss  Cohen's 
left  hand?" 

Abe  stared  in  astonishment. 

"It's  a  beauty,  Abe,"  Morris  went  on.  "A 
bright  young  feller  like  Ike  Feinsilver  don't  get 
stuck,  no  matter  what  he  buys.  He  got  it  through 
Plotkin's  cousin  down  on  Maiden  Lane." 

Abe  sat  down  to  ponder  over  the  news. 

"You  mean,"  he  said  at  length,  "that  Ike  Fein- 
silver,  of  the  Hamsuckett  Mills,  is  going  to  marry 
Miss  Cohen?" 

"You  guessed  it  right,  Abe,"  Morris  replied. 

"And  who  fixed  it  up?"  said  Abe. 

Morris   slapped   his   chest  proudly. 

"I  did,"  he  replied. 

Abe  smoked  on  in  silence. 

"I  suppose  I  must  congratulate  her,  Mawruss?" 
he  said  at  length,  starting  to  rise. 

" There's  no  hurry,"  said  Morris.  "  I  let  her  go  up 
town  this  morning.  She  wanted  to  do  some  shopping." 


302  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Abe  sat  down  again. 

"You  done  a  smart  piece  of  work,  Mawruss,  I 
must  say,"  he  admitted.  "Ike's  a  good  feller,  and 
Miss  Cohen'll  make  him  a  good  wife,  even  if  she 
ain't  a  good  bookkeeper.  Also,  we  done  a  good 
turn  to  Max  Cohen.  I  bet  he's  pleased.  I  wonder 
he  ain't  been  around  yet." 

Hardly  had  the  words  issued  from  Mr.  Potash's 
mouth,  when  the  store-door  opened  to  admit  a 
short,  thick-set  person,  and  then  closed  again  with 
a  bang  that  threatened  every  pane  of  glass  in  the 
vicinity.  There  was  no  hesitation  about  the  new 
comer's  actions.  He  made  straight  for  the  sample 
room,  and  had  almost  reached  it  before  Abe  could 
scramble  to  his  feet.  The  latter  rushed  forward 
and  grabbed  the  visitor's  hand. 

"Mr.  Cohen,"  he  cried,  "what  a  pleasure  this 
is!  I  congratulate  you!" 

Mr.  Cohen  withdrew  his  hand  from  Abe's  cordial 
grasp. 

"You  congradulate  me,  hey?"  he  said,  with  slow 
and  ironic  emphasis.  "Mawruss  Perlmutter  also 
congradulates  me  —  what?"  He  fixed  the  unhappy 
Morris  with  a  terrible  glare.  "Don't  congradulate 
•me"  he  went  on.  "Congradulate  Ike  Feinsilver 
and  Beckie  Cohen."  He  gathered  force  as  he  pro 
ceeded.  "Fools!"  he  continued  in  a  rapid  crescendo. 
"Meddlers!  You  spill  my  blood!  You  ruin  me! 
I'm  a  millionaire,  you  tell  Feinsilver.  I've  got 


FIRING  MISS  COHEN  303 

nothing  to  do  with  my  money  but  that  I  should 
throw  it  away  in  the  street  I" 

"Mister  Cohen,"  Morris  protested,  "you'll  make 
yourself  sick. " 

"I'll  make  you  sick!"  Cohen  rejoined.  "I'll 
make  for  you  a  blue  eye,  too.  Five  thousand  dollars 
I  got  to  give  her!" 

Abe  whistled  involuntarily. 

"I  should  think  two  thousand  would  be  plenty, " 
he  suggested. 

Max  Cohen  turned  on  him  with  another  glare. 

"What!"  he  shrieked.  "Am  I  a  beggar?  Should 
I  give  my  niece  a  miserable  two  thousand  dollars? 
Ain't  I  got  no  pride  ?  I  got  to  make  it  five  thousand !" 
He  paused  while  his  imagination  dwelt  on  the  mag 
nitude  of  this  colossal  sum.  "Five  thousand 
dollars!"  he  shrieked  again,  "and  business  the 
way  it  is!" 

Mr.  Perlmutter  laid  a  soothing  palm  on  Cohen's 
shoulder. 

"But,  Mr.  Cohen,"  he  said,  "what  can  we  do? 
Why  should  you  tell  us  all  this?" 

Mr.  Cohen  shook  off  Morris's  caress. 

"You're  right,"  he  said.  "Why  should  I  tell 
you  all  this  ?  I  didn't  come  here  to  tell  you  this.  I 
come  here  to  tell  you  something  else.  I  come  here 
to  tell  you  to  cancel  all  orders  what  I  give  you. 
Also,  if  you  or  your  salesman  come  by  my  place 
ever  again,  look  out;  that's  all.  The  way  I  feel  it 


3o4  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

now,  I'll  murder  you!"  He  turned  to  leave.  "And 
another  thing,"  he  concluded.  "One  thing,  you 
can  depend  on  it.  So  far  what  I  can  help  it,  you 
don't  sell  one  dollar's  worth  of  goods  to  any  of  my 
friends,  never  no  more!" 

Again  the  door  banged  explosively,  and  Mr. 
Cohen  was  gone. 

For  ten  minutes  there  was  an  awed  silence  in 
the  sample  room.  At  length  Abe  looked  at  his 
partner  with  a  sickly  smile. 

"Well,  Mawruss, "  he  said,  "you  made  a  nice 
mess  of  it,  ain't  you?" 

Morris  was  too  stunned  to  reply. 

"That's  what  comes  of  not  minding  your  own 
business,"  said  Abe.  "We  lose  a  good  customer, 
and  maybe  several  good  customers.  We  lose  a  good 
bookkeeper,  too,  Mawruss  —  one  what  has  been 
with  us  for  five  years;  and  also  we  are  out  a  wedding 
present. " 

"I  meant  it  good,"  Morris  protested.  "I  done 
it  for  the  best.  It  says  in  the  Talmud,  Abe,  that 
we  are  commanded  to  promote  marriages." 

Abe  waggled  his  head  solemnly. 

"This  is  the  first  time  I  hear  it,  that  you  are  a 
Talmudist,  Mawruss!"  he  said. 

A  month  passed,  and  Miss  Cohen  continued  to 
apply  herself  to  her  daily  task  at  Potash  &  Perl- 
mutter's  books. 

"I  don't  understand  it,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said  one 


FIRING  MISS  COHEN  305 

morning.  "Why  don't  that  girl  quit  her  job? 
She  must  have  all  sorts  of  things  to  do  —  clothes 
to  buy  and  furniture  to  pick  out,  ain't  it?" 

Perlmutter  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  spoke  to  her  about  it,"  he  replied,  "and  she 
says  so  long  as  we're  so  busy  here,  she  guesses  she 
will  stay  on  the  job  as  long  as  she  can.  She  says 
her  mommer  and  her  sister  can  do  all  the  shopping 
for  her." 

"You  see,  Mawruss,  what  a  mistake  you  make," 
Abe  commented  with  a  sigh. 

"That's  a  fine  girl,  that  Miss  Cohen!" 

Morris  nodded  gloomily.  He  began  to  realize 
that  he  had  made  a  mistake,  after  all.  Only  that 
morning  Mrs.  Perlmutter  had  demanded  twenty 
dollars  with  which  to  make  over  her  best  frock  for 
Miss  Cohen's  wedding. 

"Sure,  she's  a  fine  girl,"  he  agreed;  "but  you 
got  to  admit  yourself,  Abe,  that  a  growing  business 
like  ours  needs  a  hustling  young  man  for  a  book 
keeper." 

"That's  all  right,  too,  Mawruss,"  said  Abe; 
"but  you  also  got  to  admit  that  what  a  growing 
business  like  ours  needs  most  of  all,  Mawruss,  is 
customers;  and  so  far  what  I  see,  we  don't  gain  any 
customers  by  this.  Also,  my  wife  has  got  to  make 
a  new  dress  for  the  wedding.  She  told  me  so  this 
morning. " 

Morris  made  no  reply.     He  was  growing  heartily 


306  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

sick  of  this  business  of  firing  Miss  Cohen,  and  con 
soled  himself  with  the  thought  that  the  wedding 
was  fast  approaching,  and  that  they  would  be 
rid  of  her  for  good. 

At  length  the  wedding-day  arrived.  Miss  Cohen 
left  Potash  &  Perlmutter's  at  four  o'clock,  for  the 
ceremony  was  set  for  half-past  seven  in  the  evening. 
Her  parting  with  her  employers  was  an  embarrassing 
one  for  all  three.  Abe  handed  her  a  check  for  twenty- 
five  dollars,  with  the  firm's  blessing,  and  Morris 
shook  her  hand  in  comparative  silence.  He  had 
done  and  suffered  much  for  that  moment  of  leave- 
taking;  and  further  than  wishing  her  a  long  and 
happy  married  life,  he  said  nothing.  As  for  Abe, 
the  squandering  of  twenty-five  dollars,  without 
hope  of  return,  temporarily  exhausted  his  capacity 
for  emotion. 

"Good  luck  to  you,  Miss  Cohen,"  he  said.  "Hope 
we  see  you  again  soon. " 

"Oh,  sure!"  Miss  Cohen  replied  cheerfully. 
"You'll  be  at  the  wedding  to-night?" 

Abe  nodded  —  they  all  nodded  —  and  then,  with  a 
final  handshake  all  around,  Miss  Cohen  departed. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  the  wedding  reception 
that  evening  was  a  very  enjoyable  occasion  for  all 
the  guests,  with  the  possible  exception  of  Max 
Cohen.  The  wine  flowed  like  French  champagne 
at  four  dollars  a  quart,  while,  as  Morris  Perlmutter 
at  once  deduced  from  the  careful  way  in  which  the 


FIRING  MISS  COHEN  307 

waiters  disguised  the  label  with  a  napkin,  it  was 
really  domestic  champagne  of  an  inferior  quality. 
Nevertheless,  Abe  Potash  drank  more  than  his 
share,  in  a  rather  futile  attempt  to  get  back,  in  kind, 
part  of  the  twelve  and  a  half  dollars  he  had  contrib 
uted  toward  Miss  Cohen's  wedding-present,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  cost  of  his  wife's  gown. 

Consequently,  on  the  morning  after  the  festivities 
he  entered  his  place  of  business  in  no  very  pleasant 
frame  of  mind.  He  found  that  Morris  had  already 
arrived. 

"Well,  Mawruss,"  he  said  in  greeting,  "every 
thing  went  off  splendid  —  for  Feinsilver.  Max 
Cohen  came  down  with  a  certified  check  for 
five  thousand  dollars,  you  and  me  got  rid  of  about 
over  a  hundred,  counting  the  wedding-present  and 
our  wives'  dresses,  and  Miss  Cohen  got  a  husband 
and  a  lot  of  cut  glass,  while  me  —  I  got  a  headache!" 

Morris  grunted. 

"I  guess  you  don't  feel  too  good  yourself,  ain't 
it?"  Abe  went  on.  "Anyhow,  you  got  to  get 
busy  now,  and  find  some  smart  young  feller  to  keep 
the  books.  You  got  rid  of  your  dirty  water,  Maw 
russ;  now  you  got  to  get  some  clean.  Did  you  put 
an  'ad'  in  the  papers,  Mawruss?" 

"No,  I  ain't,"  Morris  snapped. 

"Ain't  you  going  to?" 

"What  for?"  Morris  growled.  "We  don't  need 
no  bookkeeper." 


3o8  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"  Why  not?  "Abe  cried. 

Morris  nodded  in  the  direction  of  the  office. 

"Because  we  got  one,"  he  replied. 

Abe  turned  toward  the  little  glass  enclosure. 
He  gasped  in  amazement,  and  nearly  swallowed 
the  stump  of  his  cigar,  for  at  the  old  stand,  indus 
triously  applying  herself  to  the  books  of  Potash  & 
Perlmutter,  sat  Mrs.  Isaac  Feinsilver,  nee  Cohen. 

A  moment  later  the  door  opened,  and  Isaac 
Feinsilver  entered,  immaculately  clothed  in  a  suit 
of  zebra-like  design.  He  proceeded  to  the  book 
keeper's  office  and  kissed  the  blushing  bride;  then 
he  repaired  to  the  sample  room. 

"  Good  morning,  Mawruss !  Good  morning,  Abe !" 
he  said  briskly.  "Ain't  it  a  fine  weather?"  He 
threw  a  bundle  *of  swatches  upon  the  sample 
table.  "My  partners,  Goldner  &  Plotkin,  and 
me"  —  here  he  paused  to  note  the  effect  —  "is 
putting  out  a  fine  line  of  spring  goods,  and  I  want 
to  show  you  some. " 

Abe  and  Morris  looked  over  Ike's  line  in  dazed 
astonishment;  and  before  they  were  really  cognizant 
of  what  was  going  on,  Ike  had  booked  a  generous 
order.  He  gathered  up  the  samples  into  a  neat 
little  heap  and  put  them  under  his  arm. 

"That  ain't  so  bad,"  he  said,  "for  a  honeymoon 
order." 

Then  he  turned  and  strode  toward  the  book 
keeper's  office.  Ouce  more  he  saluted  the  lips  of 


FIRING  MISS  COHEN  309 

his  assiduous  spouse,  and  a  moment  later  he  was 
walking  rapidly  down  the  street.  Abe  looked  after 
him  and  expelled  a  huge  breath. 

"You  find  it  in  the  Talmud  that  we  are  com 
manded  to  promote  marriages,  ain't  it,  Mawruss?" 
he  said.  "But  one  thing's  sure,  Mawruss  —  you 
can't  run  a  cloak-and-suit  business  according  to 
the  Talmud."  There  was  a  short  silence.  "Did 
you  ask  her  why  she  comes  back,  Mawruss?"  he 
said. 

Morris  took  the  end  off  a  particularly  black  cigar 
with  one  vicious  bite. 

"I  didn't  have  to  ask  her.  She  told  me,"  he 
said  bitterly.  "She  says  a  smart  girl  can  get  a 
husband  any  day,  she  says;  but  a  good  job  is  hard 
to  find,  and  when  you  got  one,  you  should  stick 
to  it!" 


CHAPTER  TEN 
AUX  ITALIENS 

WHAT  are  you  talking  nonsense,  Abe,"  Mor 
ris  Perlmutter  declared  hotly,  one  morning 
in  December;  "an  elegant  class  of  people 
lives  in  the  houses.  On  the  same  floor  with  me  lives 
Harry  Baskof,  which  he  is  just  married  a  daughter 
of  Maisener  &  Finkman.  You  remember  Max  Fink- 
man,  for  years  a  salesman  for  B.  Senft  &  Co.  Down 
stairs  is  a  lawyer,  a  young  feller  by  the  name  Sholy, 
and  on  the  ground  floor  is  Doctor  Eichendorfer. " 
"With  lawyers,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said,  "we  got 
enough  to  do  downtown,  ain't  it?  Doctors  also, 
Mawruss.  I  am  once  living  next  door  to  a  doctor, 
and  every  time  I  meet  that  feller  he  says  'How  do 
you  do?'  to  me  like  he  would  mean,  'It's  a  fine  day 
for  an  operation.'  I  get  a  pain  in  my  right  side 
whenever  I  think  of  him  even." 

"Never  mind,  Abe,"  Morris  rejoined.  "Oncet 
in  a  while  a  doctor  in  the  house  comes  in  pretty 
handy  —  a  lawyer  too.  A  feller  could  get  a  whole 
lot  of  pointers  riding  up  and  down  in  an  elevator 
with  a  lawyer.  Ain't  it?  The  only  trouble  about 

310 


AUX  ITALIENS  311 

the  house  is  the  family  above  us,  which  the  lady  is 
all  the  time  hollering  like  somebody  would  be  giving 
her  a  licking  already.  Minnie  says  that  she  hears 
from  our  girl  that  her  girl  says  she  was  an  opera 
singer  in  the  old  country. " 

"Yow,  an  opera  singer  in  the  old  country!"  Abe 
exclaimed  skeptically.  "In  Russland  they  don't 
got  so  many  opera  singers  as  all  that." 

"What  d'ye  mean,  in  Russland?"  Morris  de 
manded.  "The  woman  ain't  from  Russland  at  all. 
She's  an  Italiener.  I  am  coming  up  in  the  elevator 
last  night  with  her  husband  and  a  friend,  and  the 
way  they  are  talking  to  each  other  it  sounds  like 
a  couple  of  bushelers  in  a  factory.  I  tell  you 
the  honest  truth,  Abe,  for  me  it  don't  make  no  dif 
ference  if  a  feller  would  be  a  Frencher  oder  an  Irish 
man,  so  long  as  he  treats  me  white  I  would  be  a  good 
feller,  Abe;  but  an  Italiener,  Abe,  is  something  else 
again.  An  Italiener  would  as  lief  stick  a  knife 
into  you  as  look  at  you,  Abe,  and  they  smell  the 
whole  house  out  with  garlic  yet." 

"There's  lots  of  things  smells  worse  as  garlic, 
Mawruss,"  Abe  retorted,  "and  as  for  sticking  a 
knife  into  you,  that's  all  schmooes.  There's  lots 
of  people  worser  as  Italieners,  I  bet  yer,  and  when 
it  comes  right  down  to  it,  Mawruss,  I'd  a  whole 
lot  sooner  have  a  couple  Italieners  working  for  me 
as  some  of  them  fellers  which  they  are  coming  over 
from  Russland. " 


3i2  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

"Since  when  did  you  got  such  friendly  feelings 
for  Italieners,  Abe?"  Morris  inquired  satirically. 

"Never  mind!"  Abe  exclaimed.  "You  could 
knock  an  Italiener  all  you  want,  Mawruss,  but  you 
could  take  it  from  me,  Mawruss,  when  an  Italiener's 
got  work  to  do  he  don't  stand  around  talking  a  lot 
of  nonsense  instead  of  attending  to  business,  like 
some  people  I  know. " 

With  this  scathing  rejoinder  Abe  trudged  off 
toward  the  cutting  room  and  Morris  proceeded  to 
the  office.  He  had  hardly  seated  himself  comfort 
ably  at  his  desk,  however,  when  Abe  burst  into 
the  room. 

"That's  the  way  it  goes,  Mawruss,"  he  cried. 
"Half  the  time  we  sit  and  schmooes  in  the  showroom 
and  we  don't  know  what  goes  on  in  our  cutting 
room  at  all. " 

"What's  the  matter  now?"  Morris  asked. 

"Harkavy  has  quit  us  again,"  Abe  replied. 

"Quit  us!"  Morris  exclaimed.     "What  for?" 

"Nothing.  All  I  says  to  the  feller  was  why  them 
piece  goods  is  on  the  floor,  and  he  says  he  is  sick 
and  tired  and  I  should  get  another  designer. " 

Morris  bit  the  end  off  a  new  cigar  and  glared 
ferociously  at  Abe. 

"So,"  he  said  bitterly,  "we  lose  another  designer 
through  you,  Abe.  What  do  you  think,  a  designer 
would  stand  for  abuse  the  same  like  a  partner,  Abe?" 

"What    d'ye    mean  —  abuse,    Mawruss?"    Abe 


AUX  ITALIENS  313 

protested.  "I  ain't  said  no  abuse  to  the  feller  at 
all;  and  even  if  I  would,  Mawruss,  I  guess  I  could 
talk  like  how  I  want  to  in  my  own  cutting  room, 
Mawruss. " 

Morris  rose  to  his  feet. 

"Schon  gut,  Abe,"  he  said.  "Don't  ask  me  I 
should  step  right  into  Harkavy's  shoes  and  work 
like  a  dawg  till  you  are  finding  a  new  designer, 
Abe.  Them  days  is  past,  Abe." 

"You  shouldn't  worry  yourself,  Mawruss,"  Abe 
retorted.  "The  way  business  is  so  rotten  nowadays, 
y'understand,  we  would  quick  get  another  designer. " 

"Would  you?"  Morris  cried.  "Well,  I  guess  I 
got  something  to  say  about  that,  Abe.  If  you  think 
we  are  going  to  work  to  hire  a  designer  which  he 
is  getting  fired  by  every  John,  Dick  and  Harry,  you 
got  another  think  coming.  This  time,  Abe,  I  would 
hire  the  designer,  and  don't  you  forget  it." 

"Did  I  say  I  wanted  to  do  it,  Mawruss?"  Abe 
asked.  "Go  ahead  and  hire  him,  Mawruss,  only 
one  thing  I  got  to  ask  you  as  a  favour:  don't  say  the 
feller  was  my  choice,  Mawruss;  because  I  wipe  my 
hands  from  the  whole  matter." 

For  the  remainder  of  the  day  Morris  and  Abe 
maintained  only  such  speaking  relations  as  were 
necessary  to  the  conduct  of  their  business,  and  when 
Morris  went  home  that  evening  he  wore  so  gloomy 
an  air  that  Harry  Baskof,  who  rode  up  on  the  ele 
vator  with  him,  was  moved  to  comment. 


314  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"What's  the  matter,  Mawruss?"  he  said.  "You 
look  like  your  best  customer  would  be  asking  an 
extension  on  you. " 

"We  don't  sell  such  people  at  all,  Harry," 
Morris  said  bitterly.  "Collections  is  all  right, 
Harry,  but  when  a  feller's  got  a  partner  which  he 
is  got  such  a  quick  temper,  understand  me,  that 
he  fires  out  the  help  faster  as  I  could  hire  'em  —  I 
got  a  right  to  look  worried.  Our  designer  leaves 
us  to-day." 

"Ain't  that  terrible,  Mawruss,"  Harry  said  in 
mock  sympathy.  "I  suppose  you  couldn't  walk 
for  miles  on  Fifth  Avenue  between  Eighteenth  and 
Twenty-third  Street  and  break  your  neck  falling 
over  a  hundred  designers  which  they  are  hanging 
around  there  looking  for  jobs." 

They  alighted  at  the  third  floor  and  Morris  drew 
his  latchkey  from  his  waistcoat  pocket. 

"Sure,  I  know,  Harry,"  he  retorted.  "Them 
people  which  they  already  got  designers  could  al 
ways  find  a  better  one,  y'understand,  but  when  you 
ain't  got  a  designer,  Harry,  that's  something  else 
again.  You  could  advertise  until  you  are  blue 
in  the  face,  and  all  the  answers  you  get  is  from 
fellers  which  they  couldn't  design  a  sausage  casing 
for  a  frankfurter  already. " 

" Schmooes,  Mawruss!"  Harry  cried.  "I  could 
get  you  thousands  of  designers.  In  fact,  Mawruss, 
only  this  afternoon  my  father-in-law,  Mr.  Finkman, 


AUX  ITALIENS  315 

sends  me  over  a  man  which  he  is  working  for  years 
by  Senft  &  Co.  as  a  designer,  I  should  give  him  a  job. 
I  already  got  a  good  designer,  so  what  could  I  do?" 

"Why  didn't  you  think  to  send  him  over  to  me, 
Harry?"  Morris  said. 

"How  should  I  know  you  wanted  a  designer?" 
Harry  rejoined.  "But,  anyhow,  maybe  it  ain't 
too  late  yet.  After  supper  I  would  ring  up  Mr. 
Finkman  and  I'll  let  you  know." 

"Much  obliged, "  Morris  said,  as  he  turned  the  key 
and  entered  his  own  apartment.  He  was  so  far 
restored  to  good  humour  by  his  conversation  with 
Harry  Baskof  that  when  he  bestowed  his  evening 
kiss  on  Minnie  he  failed  to  notice  that  her  eyes 
were  somewhat  swollen. 

"Yes,  Minnie,"  he  said,  "that's  the  way  it  is 
when  you  got  good  neighbours. " 

"Good  neighbours! "Minnie  said  bitterly, and  then 
for  the  first  time  Morris  observed  her  swollen  eyelids. 

"Why,  Minnie  leben,"  he  exclaimed  as  he  folded 
her  in  a  second  embrace,  "what's  the  trouble?" 

"Don't,  Morris,"  Minnie  said  almost  snappishly, 
as  she  wriggled  away  from  him;  "my  waist  is  mussed 
up  enough  from  working  in  the  kitchen,  without 
your  crushing  it. " 

"  Working  in  the  kitchen ! "  Morris  said.  "What's 
the  matter?  Is  Tillie  sick?" 

"No,  she  isn't,"  Minnie  replied,  as  she  rushed 
off  toward  the  kitchen.  "  She's  gone. " 


316  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Morris  hung  up  his  coat  and  made  his  perfun^  tcry 
toilet  without  another  word.  Despite  Minnie's  pa 
thetic  appearance,  there  was  a  dangerous  gleam  in 
her  eyes  that  urged  Morris  to  the  exercise  of  the 
most  delicate  marital  diplomacy. 

"What  a  soup!"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  subjected 
the  first  spoonful  to  a  long,  gurgling  inhalation.  "If 
they  got  such  soup  as  this  at  the  Waldorf,  Minnie 
leben,  I  bet  yer  the  least  they  would  soak  you  for  it 
is  a  dollar." 

Following  the  soup  came  boiled  brisket,  a  dish 
that  Morris  loathed.  Ordinarily  Morris  would 
have  eaten  it  with  sulky  diffidence,  but  when  Minnie 
bore  the  steaming  dish  from  the  kitchen  he  not  only 
jumped  from  his  seat  to  take  it  from  her  hands, 
but  after  he  had  deposited  it  on  the  table  he  kissed 
her  on  the  forehead  with  lover-like  delicacy. 

"How  did  you  know  I  am  thinking  all  the  way 
up  on  the  subway  if  Minnie  would  only  got  Brust- 
deckel  for  supper  for  a  change  what  a  treat  it  would 
be?"  he  said. 

Minnie's  glum  face  broke  into  a  smile  and  Morris 
fairly  beamed. 

"What  do  you  bother  your  head  so  about  a  girl 
leaves  you,  Minnie  leben,"  he  cried.  "You  could 
get  plenty  of  girls.  On  Lenox  Avenue  a  feller  could 
break  his  neck  already  falling  over  girls  which  is 
hanging  around  looking  for  jobs." 

"Oh,  I  know  you  can  get  lots  of  girls,"  Minnie 


AUX  ITALIENS  317 

agreed,  "but  you've  got  to  train  them,  Morris; 
but  then,  too,  I  wouldn't  care  so  much,  but  those 
awful  Italians  upstairs  went  and  stole  Tillie  away 
from  me." 

"What!"  Morris  shouted.  "Them  Italieners  done 
it?  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  that  for  a  dirty  trick?" 

"And  they  only  pay  her  three  dollars  a  month 
more,"  Minnie  continued. 

"Three  dollars  a  month  more,  hey?"  Morris 
replied.  "Well,  that's  the  way  it  is,  Minnie. 
Honestly,  Minnie,  anybody  which  they  would 
steal  away  from  you  somebody  which  is  working 
for  you,  it  ain't  safe  to  live  in  the  same  house  with 
them  at  all.  A  feller  which  steals  away  feller's 
help  would  pick  a  pocket.  Such  cut-throats  you 
couldn't  trust  at  all."  He  helped  himself  to  some 
more  brisket. 

"Never  mind,  Minnie,"  he  said,  "if  it  would 
be  necessary  we  will  pay  a  girl  a  couple  dollars  more 
a  week  so  long  as  we  get  a  good  one." 

"Will  we?"  Minnie  said.  "Since  when  are  you 
running  this  house,  Morris?" 

"I  was  only  talking  in  a  manner  of  speaking," 
he  hastened  to  say.  "Where  do  you  buy  such  good 
Brustdeckel,  Minnie?  Honestly,  it  takes  in  a  way 
a  genius  to  pick  out  such  meat. " 

"Does  it?"  Minnie  rejoined.  "I  ordered  it 
over  the  'phone,  and  furthermore,  Morris,  if  you 
make  so  much  noise  eating  it  you  will  wake  the  boy. " 


3i8  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"I'm  all  through,  Minnie,"  Morris  said.  "Wait 
—  I'll  show  you  how  I  could  help  you  wash  the 
dishes." 

As  he  started  for  the  kitchen  with  one  butter- 
plate  in  his  hand  the  doorbell  rang,  whereupon  he 
returned  the  butterplate  to  the  dining-room  table 
and  hastened  down  the  hall. 

"Hallo,  Mawruss, "  cried  Harry  Baskof  as  Morris 
opened  the  door.  "I  rung  up  the  old  man  and  he 
says  he  got  the  feller  a  job  with  Sammet  Brothers. " 

"Come  inside,"  Morris  answered,  and  led  the 
way  to  the  parlour.  He  motioned  his  visitor  to  a 
seat  and  produced  a  box  of  cigars. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  the  feller  got  a  job  as 
quick  as  all  that?"  he  continued. 

"He  sure  did,  Mawruss,"  Harry  replied.  "He's 
an  elegant  designer,  Mawruss,  and  if  B.  Senft  knew 
his  business  he  never  would  got  rid  of  him  at  all." 

"Why,  what  did  he  done  to  B.  Senft?"  Morris 
asked. 

"Nothing  at  all,  Mawruss.  Senft  is  crazy.  He 
gets  a  prejudice  against  the  feller  all  of  a  sudden 
on  account  he's  an  Italiener. " 

"Italiener!"  Morris  cried. 

"Sure,"  Harry  replied.  "Did  you  ever  hear 
the  like,  Mawruss,  that  a  man  like  Senft,  which 
his  folks  oser  come  over  in  the  Mayflower  neither, 
y'understand,  should  kick  on  account  a  feller  is  an 
Italiener?  And  mind  you,  Mawruss,  the  feller  is 


AUX  ITALIENS  319 

otherwise  perfectly  decent,  respectable  feller  by 
the  name  Enrico  Simonetti." 

Morris  nodded. 

"With  a  name  like  that  he  must  got  to  be  a  good 
designer,"  he  commented,  "  otherwise  Sammet 
Brothers  wouldn't  hire  him  at  all.  It  would  take 
a  whole  lot  more  gumption  than  Leon  Sammet  got 
it  to  call  such  a  feller  from  the  cutting  room  even." 

"That's  all  right,  Mawruss.  You  don't  have  to 
call  such  a  feller  from  the  cutting  room.  He  could 
run  a  cutting  room  as  well  as  design  garments; 
and  in  fact,  Mawruss,  when  Sammet  Brothers  pay 
that  feller  two  thousand  a  year,  y'understand,  they 
are  practically  getting  him  for  nothing." 

"Two  thousand  a  year!"  Morris  exclaimed. 
"Why,  we  ourselves  would  pay  him  twenty-five 
hundred." 

"The  feller's  worth  four  thousand  if  he's  worth 
a  cent,  Mawruss,  but  the  way  business  is  so  rotten 
nowadays  he  was  willing  to  take  two  thousand. 
Aber  my  father-in-law,  Mr.  Finkman,  told  me  on 
the  'phone,  the  roar  this  feller  puts  up  when  Leon 
Sammet  offers  him  eighteen  hundred,  Leon  was 
pretty  near  afraid  for  his  life  already." 

"  I  don't  blame  him, "  Morris  commented.  "  Such 
highwaymen  like  Sammet  Brothers  they  would  beat 
a  feller's  price  down  to  nothing.  We  ain't  that  way 
with  our  help,  Harry.  If  we  would  got  a  good  man 
working  by  us  we " 


320  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

" Morris!"  cried  a  voice  from  the  kitchen. 

"Yes,"  Morris  replied,  jumping  to  his  feet.  In 
less  than  two  minutes  he  reappeared  and  approached 
Harry  with  an  apologetic  smile.  "  Would  you 
excuse  me  a  couple  minutes,  Harry?"  he  asked. 
"I  got  to  run  over  to  the  grocer  for  a  box  of  soap 
powder.  Our  girl  threw  up  her  job  on  us. " 

"I'll  go  with  you,"  Harry  replied.  "I  need  to 
get  a  little  air." 

A  minute  later  they  walked  down  the  street  to 
Lenox  Avenue,  and  as  they  approached  the  corner 
Harry  nodded  to  a  short,  dark  personage  who  was 
proceeding  slowly  down  the  street. 

"Al-lo!"  he  cried,  seizing  Harry  by  the  arm, 
"adjerdo?" 

"Fine,  thanks,"  Harry  said.  "Let  me  intro 
duce  you  to  a  friend  of  mine  by  the  name  Mr. 
Perlmutter.  This  is  Mr.  Simonetti,  Mawruss, 
which  I  am  talking  to  you  about." 

Morris  shook  hands  limply. 

"You  don't  tell  me,"  he  said.  "You  know  me, 
Mr.  Simmons  ?  My  partner  is  Mr.  Potash.  I  guess 
you  hear  B.  Senft  speak  about  us." 

"Sure,"  Simonetti  said.  "Mister  Senft  ees 
always  say:  'Mister  Potash  and  Perlmutter  ees 
nice-a  people.'  Sure." 

"Better  than  Sammet  Brothers?"  Harry  asked. 

Simonetti  raised  his  eyebrows  and  made  a  flap 
ping  gesture  with  his  right  hand. 


AUX  ITALIENS  321 

"A-oh!"  he  said.  "Sammet  Brothers,  that's 
all  right  too.  Not  too  much-a  all  right,  Mr.  Baskof, 
but  is  preety  good  people.  I  am  just-a  now  go  to 
see  ees-a  lawyer  for  sign-a  da  contract." 

"Ain't  you  signed  the  contract  yet?"  Morris  cried. 

"Not-a  yet,"  Simonetti  answered.  " Just-a  now 
I  am  going." 

"Baskof,"  Morris  urged,  "supposing  you  and  me 
goes  together  with  Mr.  Simonetti  to  the  Harlem 
Winter  Garden  and  talks  the  thing  over." 

Simonetti  looked  amazedly  at  Baskof. 

"Sure,"  Baskof  said.  "It  ain't  too  late  if  he 
ain't  signed  the  contract." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  Simonetti  asked. 

"Why,  I  mean  this,  Simonetti,"  Baskof  replied. 
"Sammet  Brothers  will  give  you  a  contract  for  two 
thousand  dollars,  and  Perlmutter  here  is  willing 
to  pay  you  twenty-five  hundred.  Ain't  that  right, 
Mawruss?" 

Morris  nodded. 

"With  privilege  to    onew  it,  Mawruss,  ain't  it?" 

Again  Morris  nodded.  "One  year  renewal,"  he 
said. 

Simonetti  looked  earnestly  at  Morris,  who  fum 
bled  in  his  waistcoat  pocket  and  produced  a  cigar. 

"Do  you  smoke,  Mr.  Simmons?"  he  began. 

"Simonetti,"  the  designer  interrupted,  as  he 
took  the  cigar  and  bit  off  the  end;  "and  eef  ees  tod 
much-a  you  say  Simonetti,  call  me  'Enery-" 


322  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

,  When  Morris  entered  his  place  of  business  the 
following  morning  he  appeared  to  be  in  no  better 
humour  than  when  he  left  for  home  the  previous 
evening. 

"Well,  Abe,"  he  announced,  "I  hired  a  soap 
powder." 

Abe  stared  at  him  for  a  moment. 

"What  are  you  talking  nonsense,  you  hired  a  soap 
powder?"  he  exclaimed.  "Are  you  verriickt?" 

Morris  snapped  his  fingers. 

"A  soap  powder!"  he  cried.  "Hear  me  talk! 
I  mean  a  designer.  I  hired  a  designer,  Abe,  a  first- 
class  feller." 

"What  d'ye  mean,  a  first-class  feller?"  Abe  de 
manded.  "You  are  leaving  here  last  night  half- 
past  six,  and  here  it  is  only  eight  o'clock  next  morn 
ing  and  already  you  hired  a  designer  which  he  is 
a  first-class  feller.  How  do  you  know  he  is  a  first- 
class  feller,  Mawruss?  Did  you  dream  it?" 

"No,  I  didn't  dream  it,  Abe,"  Morris  said  as  he 
hung  up  his  hat;  "and  what  is  more  I  want  to  tell 
you  something.  Yesterday  you  are  saying  I  should 
go  ahead  and  hire  a  designer  and  not  bother  you  in 
your  head,  and  to-day  you  are  kicking  yet.  Well, 
you  could  kick  all  you  want  to,  Abe,  because  if  a 
feller's  partner  kicks  oder  his  wife  kicks,  Abe,  he  must 
got  to  stand  for  it.  But  just  the  same,  Abe,  this 
here  feller  comes  to  work  for  us  Monday  morning, 
and  we  got  with  him  a  contract,  all  signed  and  g'fixed 


AUX  ITALIENS  323 

by  a  lawyer,  which  he  gets  from  us  twenty-five 
hundred  a  year  for  one  year,  with  privilege  to  renew 
for  another  year. " 

" Twenty-five  hundred  dollars!"  Abe  exclaimed. 
"By  a  lawyer?  What  are  you  talking  about, 
Mawruss?" 

At  this  juncture  Morris  grew  purple  with  rage. 

"Say,  lookyhere,  Abe,"  he  yelled,  "ask  me  no 
questions.  I  am  sick  and  tired  of  it.  You  would 
think  if  a  feller  forgets  to  buy  a  packet  soap  powder, 
y'understand,  his  wife  wouldn't  go  crazy  and  ring 
up  the  police  station  yet,  on  account  I  am  going 
with  Baskof  and  this  here  cutter  to  see  a  lawyer 
by  the  name  Sholy,  which  he  lives  in  my  flathouse 
yet.  There  we  are  sitting  till  twelve  o'clock  fixing 
up  the  contract,  and  if  you  don't  like  it  you  could 
lump  it.  When  I  come  home  I  got  to  get  Doctor 
Eichendorfer  yet  to  tend  to  Minnie.  Five  dollars 
that  robber  soaks  me,  and  he  lives  in  the  same  house 
with  me.  Also  this  lawyer  Sholy  charges  me  also 
twenty-five  dollars  for  drawing  the  contract,  under 
stand  me,  which  Feldman  himself  would  only  charge 
us  fifty.  Neighbours  them  fellers  is,  Abe!  Such 
neighbours  I  would  expect  to  got  it  if  I  am  living 
next  door  to  Sing  Sing  prison." 

For  more  than  an  hour  Abe  pressed  the  matter 
no  further,  but  at  length  curiosity  impelled  him 
to  speak.  "Say,  lookyhere,  Mawruss,"  he  began, 
"couldn't  I  look  at  that  contract  too?" 


324  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

"Sure  you  could,"  Morris  replied.  "Fm  sur 
prised  you  ain't  got  no  more  interest  in  the  matter 
you  didn't  ask  me  before." 

Abe  grunted  and  took  the  contract  that  Morris 
handed  to  him.  "This  agreement,"  it  ran,  "made 
and  entered  into  between  Abraham  Potash  and 
Morris  Perlmutter,  composing  the  firm  of  Potash  & 
Perlmutter,  of  the  Borough  of  Manhattan,  City 
of  New  York,  parties  of  the  first  part,  and  Enrico 
Simonetti,  of  the  same  place,  party  of  the  second 
part,  witnesseth '"' 

At  this  point  Abe  dropped  the  contract. 

"Mawruss,"  he  said  slowly,  "do  you  mean  to 
told  me  you  are  hiring  for  a  designer  an  Italiener?" 

"Sure,"  Morris  replied;  "why  not?" 

"Why  not!"  Abe  bellowed.  "Why  not!  Ain't 
you  and  me  married  men?  Ain't  we  got  wives? 
Ain't  you  got  a  child  to  support  as  well?" 

"What's  that  got  to  do  with  it?"  Morris  asked. 

"What's  that  got  to  do  with  it?"  Abe  repeated. 
"I'm  surprised  to  hear  you  you  should  talk  that 
way,  Mawruss.  Supposing  it  is  necessary  we  should 
tell  such  a  feller  he  is  coming  down  late  oder  he  is 
doing  something  which  he  shouldn't  do,  y'under- 
stand,  then  the  very  first  thing  you  know  he  sticks 
into  us  a  knife  und  fertig.  I  suppose,  Mawruss, 
you  are  figuring  that  even  if  you  don't  carry  such 
good  insurance,  Mawruss,  your  wife  is  young  and 
could  easy  get  married  again.  But  with  me  is 


AUX  ITALIENS  325 

difTerencely.  My  wife  ain't  so  young  no  longer 
and  " 

"Say,lookyhere,Abe,"  Morris  interrupted,  "don't 
talk  no  more  such  nonsense  to  me,  because  I  seen 
the  feller  and  I  am  sitting  with  him  last  night  over 
three  hours.  That  feller  would  no  more  stick  into 
you  a  knife  as  I  would. " 

"No?"  Abe  commented. 

"And  furthermore,  Abe,  when  you  are  saying 
that  Italieners  stick  knives,  understand  me,  you  are 
talking  like  a  greenhorn.  Italieners  is  decent,  re 
spectable  people  like  anybody  else,  Abe,  and  just 
because  when  you  are  going  on  the  opera  a  couple 
Italieners  stabs  themselves,  like  I  am  seeing  it  last 
week  a  show  by  the  name  Paliatzki,  y'understand, 
that  ain't  no  sign  every  Italiener  is  a  stabber, 
understand  me.  For  that  matter,  Abe,  after  this 
here  show  Paliatzki  comes  a  whole  lot  of  fellers  from 
Russland  on  to  the  stage,  which  they  are  dancing 
so  quick  I  never  seen  the  like,  understand  me,  and 
you  know  as  well  as  I  do,  Abe,  we  got  plenty  fellers 
from  Russland  working  by  us  here  which  they  could 
no  more  dance  as  they  could  fly. " 

Abe  shrugged  again. 

"Never  mind,  supposing  they  wouldn't  be  stabbers 
even,  Mawruss,"  he  continued,  "if  you  got  working 
for  you  an  Italiener  which  you  just  broke  in  good, 
y'understand,  so  soon  as  he  saves  a  couple  hundred 
dollars  he  right  away  quits  you  and  goes  back  to 


326  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

the  old  country.  All  them  fellers  is  eating  is  garlic 
and  Lockshen  mit  holes  into  it,  and  you  know  as 
well  as  I  do,  Mawruss,  for  two  hundred  dollars  a 
feller  could  buy  enough  Lockshen  und  Knoblauch 
to  last  him  for  the  rest  of  his  natural  life.  Whereas 
Mawruss,  you  take  a  feller  which  he  is  coming  over 
here  from  Russland,  y'understand,  and  he  wouldn't 
go  back  to  the  old  country  not  if  you  was  to  make 
him  a  present  of  it  free  for  nothing. " 

"Is  it  anything  against  them  Italieners  if  they 
save  their  money,  Abe?"  Morris  asked. 

"All  right,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said,  "supposing 
Italieners  is  such  big  savers,  understand  me,  one 
thing  you  must  anyhow  got  to  admit,  Mawruss. 
You  get  a  couple  Italieners  working  for  you,  under 
stand  me,  and  from  morning  till  night  they  never 
give  you  a  minute's  peace.  Seemingly  they  must 
got  to  sing.  They  couldn't  help  themselves, 
Mawruss. " 

"What  do  we  care  if  he  hollers  a  little  something 
oncet  in  a  while,  Abe?"  Morris  protested.  "We 
could  stand  it  if  he  turns  out  some  good  styles. " 

"  //  he  turns  out  good  styles  is  all  right,  Mawruss, " 
Abe  said  as  he  turned  away.  "Lots  of  accidents 
could  happen  to  a  feller  in  the  garment  business, 
Mawruss.  Burglars  could  bust  into  his  loft  and 
steal  his  silk  piece  goods  on  him;  he  could  have 
maybe  a  fire;  he  could  fall  down  the  elevator  shaft 
and  break,  Gott  soil  hiiten,  his  neck.  All  these  things 


AUX  ITALIENS  327 

could  come  to  a  garment  manufacturer,  Mawruss; 
but  that  his  designer  should  turn  out  some  good 
styles  is  an  accident  which  don't  happen  to  one 
garment  manufacturer  out  of  a  hundred,  Mawruss. " 

Nevertheless,  long  before  Enrico  Simonetti's  term 
of  employment  had  expired  Abe  was  obliged  to 
acknowledge  his  mistake. 

Not  only  had  Enrico  proved  his  efficiency  and 
originality  as  a  designer  but  he  had  exercised  the 
utmost  discretion  in  the  management  of  the  cutting 
room.  Moreover,  he  had  little  taste  for  music 
and  never  so  much  as  whistled  a  melody  during 
working  hours. 

"I  couldn't  make  him  out  at  all,  Mawruss," 
Abe  declared  one  morning.  "Actually  the  feller 
complains  to  me  this  morning  he  couldn't  stand  that 
little  greenhorn  we  hired  last  week  on  account  he 
smells  so  from  garlic. " 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Morris  replied,  "and  he  don't 
smoke  and  he  don't  shikker,  and  he  tells  me  yes 
terday  he  boards  with  a  family  on  Second  Avenue 
which  all  it  costs  him  is  four  dollars  a  week.  And 
yet  you,  Abe,  you  are  kicking  because  the  feller 
is  an  Italiener." 

"When  was  I  kicking  to  you  the  feller  is  an 
Italiener?"  Abe  demanded.  "Why,  you  yourself, 
Mawruss,  always  says  to  me  Italieners  is  no  good. 
If  you  are  telling  me  oncet  you  are  telling  me  a 
hundred  times  about  an  Italiener  family  which  they 


328  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

are  living  on  top  of  you,  Mawruss,  and,  to  hear  you 
talk,  such  Roshoyim  you  wouldn't  believe  existed 
at  all." 

"Sure,  I  know,"  Morris  admitted,  "but  there's 
Italieners  and  Italieners,  Abe;  and  only  last  night 
them  people  sits  up  till  two  o'clock  this  morning 
shikkering  and  hollering.  Not  alone  the  woman 
hollers,  Abe,  but  a  feller  sings  that  big  song 
from  Paliatzki  till  I  thought  my  head  would  bust. 
Some  one  should  write  to  the  Board  of  Health 
about  it,  Abe." 

"My  tzuris!"  Abe  exclaimed.  "If  you  got  living 
in  the  same  house  with  you  a  lawyer  and  a  doctor, 
Mawruss,  you  shouldn't  got  much  trouble  getting 
the  Board  of  Health  after  them  Italieners.  And 
anyhow,  Mawruss,  if  the  worser  comes  to  the  worst, 
y'understand,  there's  one  thing  you  could  always  do. 

"What's  that?"  Morris  asked. 

"Move  out,"  Abe  replied,  as  he  started  for  the 
cutting  room. 

"Yes,  Mawruss,"  he  commented,  when  he  re 
turned  five  minutes  later,  "you  could  knock  the 
Italieners  all  you  want,  but  you  got  to  admit  they 
ain't  throwing  their  money  into  the  street.  Henry 
is  showing  me  just  now  a  bankbook  which  in  the 
last  nine  months  he  is  putting  away  eighteen 
hundred  dollars." 

"That's  all  right,  Abe,"  Morris  said.  "If  he 
would  be  from  unsere  Leute,  y'understand,  instead 


AUX  ITALIENS  329 

he  is  putting  the  money  in  savings  bank  and  get 
ting  3  per  cent,  interest,  he  would  invest  it  in 
something  else  and  make  it  pretty  near  double  itself 


soon.' 


"What  d'ye  mean,  3  per  cent,  interest?"  Abe 
retorted.  "Henry's  got  his  money  in  a  bank  which 
they  are  paying  him  5  per  cent,  compounded  every 
three  months.  Henry  ain't  no  fool,  Mawruss." 

"Five  per  cent.!"  Morris  exclaimed.  "What 
for  a  bank  would  pay  5  per  cent,  interest,  Abe?" 

"I  don't  know  what  for  a  bank  pays  5  per  cent., 
Mawruss,"  Abe  replied,  "but  you  could  take  it 
from  me,  Mawruss,  the  way  Sam  Feder  discounts 
perfectly  good  A  number  one  accounts  for  them  de 
positors  of  his  when  they  are  a  little  short,  Mawruss, 
not  only  could  the  Kosciusko  Bank  afford  to  pay 
five  per  cent.,  Mawruss,  but  they  could  also  give 
6  or  7,  and  still  Sam  Feder's  wife  wouldn't  got 
to  pawn  none  of  her  diamonds." 

"Does  he  deposit  his  money  with  Feder?"  Morris 
asked. 

"Yow,  he  deposit  his  money  with  Feder,  Maw 
russ!"  Abe  replied.  "He  deposits  his  money  with 
a  banker  by  the  name  Guy-seppy  Scratch-oly. " 

"Guy-seppy  Scratch-oly,"  Morris  repeated. 
"That's  a  fine  name  for  a  banker,  Abe." 

"Guy-seppy,  that's  Italian  for  Yosef,  Mawruss," 
Abe  explained.  "And  Scratch-oly  is  an  Italian  name 
the  same  like  a  feller  in  Russland  would  be  called 


330  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Lipschutzky.  For  that  matter,  Mawruss,  Lip 
schutzky  ain't  much  of  a  name  for  a  banker  neither. " 

"No,''  Morris  admitted,  "but  I'd  a  whole  lot 
sooner  trust  my  money  to  a  feller  by  the  name 
Lipschutzky  oder  Feder,  as  to  one  of  the  Scratchy 
names,  Abe." 

"What  is  the  difference  what  the  banker's  name 
is?"  Abe  rejoined.  "Henry  says  the  money  is 
all  sent  by  his  bank  to  a  branch  they  got  in  the  old 
country.  Gott  weiss  what  that  bank  couldn't  get 
for  its  money  in  the  old  country,  because  you  know 
as  well  as  I  do,  Mawruss,  here  in  New  York  City 
some  business  men  is  short  oncet  in  a  while,  under 
stand  me,  but  over  in  the  old  country  everybody  is 
short  all  the  time.  The  way  banks  does  business 
over  there,  Mawruss,  they  make  Feder's  bank  look 
like  a  Free  Loan  Association." 

"Sure,  I  know,  Abe,"  Morris  said  gloomily, 
"and  you  mark  my  words,  Abe,  so  soon  as  Henry's 
year  is  up  he  will  follow  his  money  to  the  old 
country. " 

"You  shouldn't  worry  yourself  about  that, 
Mawruss,"  Abe  said  confidently.  "When  a  feller's 
got  a  contract  with  a  privilege  for  renewal  at  two 
hundred  dollars  raise,  like  Henry  got  it,  under 
stand  me,  he  ain't  so  stuck  on  going  back  to  the  old 
country.  Two  hundred  dollars  is  a  whole  lot  of 
^noney  over  there,  Mawruss.  For  two  hundred 
dollars  in  the  old  country  a ': 


AUX  ITALIENS  331 

"  Don't  tell  me  again  how  much  Lockshen  mit 
holes  in  it  a  feller  could  buy  in  the  old  country, 
Abe,"  Morris  interrupted.  "There's  elegant 
weather  over  there  and  good  wine  to  drink,  and 
places  to  go  and  look  at  which  they  got  mountains 
twicet  as  high  as  the  Catskills,  with  olives  and 
grapes  growing  on  to  'em. " 

"I  was  never  crazy  about  olives,  Mawruss." 
"Me  neither,"  Morris  agreed,  "but  Henry  is 
something  else  again,  and  the  way  that  feller  is 
talking  to  me  in  the  cutting  room  yesterday,  Abe, 
either  he  wouldn't  be  working  for  us  three  months 
from  to-day  or  the  steamers  stops  running  to  Italy. " 

"Mawruss,"  Abe  shouted,  at  ten  o'clock  one 
morning  in  early  March,  "where  was  you?" 

"Where  was  I?"  Morris  repeated.  "I  was  to 
the  court,  that's  where  I  was. " 

"To  the  court!"  Abe  exclaimed. 

"That's  what  I  said,"  Morris  continued.  "We 
fixed  that  sucker,  me  and  Sholy  and  Doctor  Eichen- 
dorfer  and  Baskof.  We  got  him  for  a  summons  for 
this  afternoon  two  o'clock  he  should  go  to  the 
Jefferson  Market  Police  Court.  Till  four  o'clock 
this  morning  them  people  upstairs  sits  up  hollering 
and  skiddering.  Minnie  and  me  we  couldn't  sleep 
a  wink,  and  Baskof  neither.  Steals  our  servant 
girl  yet.  I'll  show  that  Rosher. " 

Abe  glared  indignantly  at  his  partner. 


332  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Do  you  mean  to  told  me,  Mawruss,"  he  said, 
"that  you  are  fooling  away  your  time  going  on  the 
court  because  somebody  upstairs  sings  a  little  some 
thing  last  night?" 

"Sings  a  little  something!"  Morris  cried.  "Why, 
that  Italiener  hollers  Paliatzki  till  you  would  think 
he  commits  a  murder  up  there." 

"Suppose  he  did,  Mawruss,  ain't  we  got  no  busi 
ness  to  go  down  here?  Here  we  are  rushed  to  death 
already,  and  you  are  fooling  away  your 

"Don't  say  that  again,  Abe,"  Morris  broke  in. 
"  I  guess  I  could  take  off  a  couple  hours  if  I  want  to. " 

"Sure,"  Abe  replied  ironically,  "and  Henry  takes 
off  a  couple  of  hours  this  lunchtime.  He  just  told 
me  so,  Mawruss.  He  takes  off  a  couple  hours  on 
account  he  is  going  downtown  to  draw  some  money 
out  of  the  bank  and  buy  his  ticket. " 

"Buy  his  ticket!"  Morris  gasped. 

"That's  right,"  Abe  continued,  with  forced 
calmness,  "because,  Mawruss,  they  wouldn't  let 
no  one  travel  on  a  steamer  without  buying  a  ticket. 
People  what  runs  steamers  is  very  funny  that  way, 
Mawruss." 

Morris  grew  pale  as  he  removed  his  coat  and  hat. 

"What's  he  buying  a  steamer  ticket  for?"  he 
asked. 

"He  didn't  tell  me  exactly,  Mawruss,"  Abe  went 
on,  "but  I  got  a  sort  of  an  idee  he's  going  back  to 
Italy,  Mawruss,  and  next  time,  Mawruss,  when  we 


AUX  ITALIENS  333 

hire  a  designer,  understand  me,  I  would  do  it  myself. 
Also,  Mawruss,  I  would  hire  a  designer  which,  if 
he  goes  back  to  the  old  country,  y'understand,  they 
would  right  away  take  him  for  a  soldier,  and  then, 
Mawruss,  we  wouldn't  got  to  be  left  without  a 
designer  just  in  the  middle  of  the  busy  season. " 

"Did  you  talk  to  him,  Abe?"  Morris  inquired 
timidly.  "Maybe  we  could  jolly  him  into  staying." 

Abe  nodded  again. 

"Maybe  you  could  jolly  a  duck  not  to  swim  in 
the  water,  Mawruss,"  he  cried  bitterly. 

"That's  all  right,  Abe,"  Morris  retorted.  "A 
duck  ain't  got  no  use  for  a  couple  of  hundred  dollars 
bonus." 

"A  couple  of  hundred  dollars  bonus!"  Abe  yelled. 
"Do  you  mean  to  say  you  would  offer  that  Italiener 
a  bonus?" 

"Sure;  why  not?"  Morris  asked.  "Ain't  he  a 
good  designer,  Abe?" 

"I  don't  care  if  he  was  the  best  designer  in  the 
world,  Mawruss,"  Abe  replied  firmly.  "Before  I 
would  give  him  a  couple  hundred  dollars  bonus, 
understand  me,  he  could  go  to  Italy  and  a  whole 
lot  farther  too." 

"Suit  yourself,"  Morris  said,  as  he  commenced 
to  examine  the  morning's  mail.  He  was  midway 
in  the  assortment  of  the  firm's  sample  line  when 
Abe  approached  him  half  an  hour  later. 

"Mawruss,"  he  said,  "do  me  the  favour.     You 


334  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

speak  to  the  feller  and  see  what  you  can  do.  After 
all,  a  couple  hundred  dollars  wouldn't  break  us." 

"I'm  satisfied,"  Morris  replied,  and  he  walked 
immediately  to  the  cutting  room. 

"What's  the  matter,  Henry,  I  hear  you  are 
leaving  us?"  he  began. 

Henry  straightened  up  from  the  layer  of  cloth 
that  was  spread  before  him  on  the  cutting  table 
and  passed  one  hand  through  his  bushy  black  hair. 

"I  gotta  no  keek,  Mr.  Perlmutter,"  he  said. 
"Just  for  my  contract  is  up,  so  I  go.  That's  all. 
I  like-a  da  job  first-class.  Mr.  Potash  ees  ver' 
good  man.  Mr.  Perlmutter  ees  too. " 

"Then  why  don't  you  stay  with  us?"  Morris 
asked,  and  Enrico  Simonetti  heaved  a  great  sigh. 

"I  like-a  da  job  first-class,  Mr.  Perlmutter,  I 
gotta  no  keek,"  he  declared;  "but  I  can  no  work. 
I  am  seek." 

"Sick!"  Morris  exclaimed;  "well,  why  didn't  you 
tell  us  then?  We'd  only  be  too  glad  to  let  you  go 
away  for  a  couple  of  weeks,  Henry." 

Enrico  sighed  even  more  deeply. 

"Ees  not  a  seekness  for  two  weeks,  Mr.  Perlmut 
ter,"  he  said.  "I  am  seek  just  for  see  my  mudder. 
Ees  old  woman  —  my  mudder,  Mr.  Perlmutter." 

Enrico's  large  brown  eyes  grew  moist  as  he  pro 
ceeded. 

"Yes,  I  am  a-seek,"  he  went  on.  "I  am  a-seek 
just  for  see  Ischia,  Posilipo,  Capri?  Mr.  Perlmutter. 


AUX  ITALIENS  335 

You  know  I  am  a-seek  for  see  aranci — oranges  grown 
on  a  tree.  I  am  a-seek  just  for  see  my  own  ceet-a, 
Napoli.  Yes,  Mr.  Perlmutter,  I  am  a-ver'  seek." 

He  sat  down  on  a  stool  and  bowed  his  face  in  his 
hands,  while  his  shoulders  heaved  up  and  down  in 
the  emotion  of  nostalgia. 

"Think  it  over,  Henry,"  Morris  said  huskily, 
and  departed  on  tiptoe.  He  returned  at  once  to 
the  assorting  of  the  sample  line,  nor  did  he  look  up 
when  Abe  came  toward  him  a  few  minutes  afterward. 

"Well,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said,  "what  did  he  say?" 

"He  didn't  say  nothing,"  Morris  replied. 

"Why  not?"  Abe  continued.  "Didn't  he  think 
two  hundred  was  enough?" 

"I  didn't  mention  the  two  hundred  to  him  at  all," 
Morris  answered,  "because  it  wouldn't  be  no  use. 
You  couldn't  keep  that  feller  from  going  back  to 
the  old  country,  not  if  you  would  put  him  into  jail 
even.  He'd  break  out,  Abe,  believe  me." 

Abe  nodded  slowly. 

"Well,  that's  the  way  it  goes,  Mawruss,"  he  said 
bitterly,  as  Enrico  walked  toward  them  from  the 
cutting  room. 

"Mr.  Potash,"  he  said,  "ascuse  me,  you  geev-a 
me  now  leetla  time  for  going  downtown  just  for 
same  like  I  tell-a  you  dis  morning?" 

"Go  ahead,  Henry,"  Morris  replied. 

"You  notta  mad  at  me,  Mr.  Perlmutter?"  Enrico 
asked  anxiously. 


336  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Why  should  I  got  to  be  mad  at  you,  Henry?" 
Morris  rejoined.  "If  I  would  feel  the  way  you  do, 
Henry,  me,  I  wouldn't  of  waited  for  my  contract 
to  be  up  even." 

"Ain't  that  a  fine  way  for  you  to  talk,  Mawruss?" 
Abe  said  after  Enrico  had  gone.  "You  would  think 
you  would  be  glad  to  get  rid  of  the  feller  right  in 
the  middle  of  the  busy  season." 

Morris  shrugged. 

"I  don't  care  if  I  would  got  to  jump  right  in  and 
work  till  twelve  o'clock  every  night,  Abe,"  he  de 
clared.  "I  would  tell  him  to  go  home  to  the  old 
country  if  I  would  got  to  pay  for  the  ticket  myself." 

Abe  thrust  his  hands  into  his  trousers  pockets 
and  started  to  walk  gloomily  away. 

"Furthermore,  Abe,  if  you  want  to  go  out  for 
your  lunch,  Abe,"  Morris  concluded,  "now  is  the 
time,  because  as  I  told  you  before,  Abe,  I  got  to 
go  on  the  court  at  two  o'clock. " 

"Sure  you  told  me  that  before,  Mawruss,"  Abe 
growled,  as  he  put  on  his  hat  and  coat;  "and  when 
a  feller  goes  to  work  and  deliberately  fixes  things  so 
he  has  got  to  go  on  a  court,  Mawruss,  d'ye  know  the 
next  place  he  would  go?" 

He  paused  for  a  retort;  but,  as  Morris  made  no 
sign,  Abe  supplied  his  own  answer. 

"A  lunatic  asylum,"  he  said,  and  a  minute 
later  the  elevator  door  clanged  behind  him. 

For  almost  an  hour  longer  Morris  busied  himself 


AUX  ITALIENS  337 

with  the  assortment  of  the  sample  line,  and  he  had 
about  concluded  his  task  when  a  great  wailing  noise 
came  from  the  cutting  room.  He  jumped  to  his 
feet  and  ran  hurriedly  to  the  scene  of  the  uproar. 
There  he  found  Enrico  Simonetti  seated  on  a  stool, 
clutching  his  hair  with  both  hands,  while  around 
him  stood  a  group  of  his  assistants,  voicing  their 
anguish  like  a  pack  of  foxhounds. 

"Koosh!"  Morris  cried.  "What  is  the  trouble 
here?" 

The  wailing  ceased,  but  Enrico  remained  seated, 
his  hands  still  clutching  his  bushy  hair,  while  his 
large  brown  eyes  stared  blankly  from  a  face  as  white 
as  a  pierrot. 

"What's  the  matter?"  Morris  repeated. 

"His  bank  busted  on  him,"  said  Nathan  Schenk- 
man,  the  shipping  clerk. 

"His  bank!"  Morris  cried.     "What  bank?" 

"It  ain't  a  regular  bank,"  Nathan  explained. 
"He  is  giving  his  money  to  an  Italiener  which  he 
calls  himself  a  banker,  Mr.  Perlmutter;  and  to-day 
when  he  is  going  there  to  get  him  money  the  feller's 
store  is  locked.  Nobody  knows  where  he  went  to 
at  all.  The  clerks  also  is  gone." 

"Is  that  right,  Henry?"  Morris  asked. 

Enrico  nodded  his  head  without  removing  his 
hands  from  his  hair. 

"There  is  a  big  crowd  of  loafers  around  the 
store,"  Nathan  continued,  "which  they  are  saying 


338  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

they  would  kill  the  feller  if  they  get  him,  so  Henry 
comes  back  here  on  account  he  ain't  that  kind,  Mr. 
Perlmutter.  Henry  is  a  decent  feller,  Mr.  Perl- 


mutter." 


Morris  looked  pityingly  at  his  cutter,  who  con 
tinued  to  stare  at  the  floor  in  stony  despair. 

"Might  you  could  do  something  to  get  him  his 
money  back  maybe,  Mr.  Perlmutter?"  Nathan  said. 

"I  would  see  when  my  partner  comes  in  from 
lunch,"  Morris  replied,  and  as  he  turned  to  leave 
the  cutting  room  Abe's  bulky  form  blocked  the 
doorway.  Morris  waved  him  back,  and  Abe  tiptoed 
to  the  front  of  the  showroom  followed  by  Morris. 

"What's  the  trouble?"  Abe  asked  immediately. 

"Trouble  enough,"  Morris  declared.  "Henry's 
bank  busted  on  him." 

"What!"  Abe  cried,  and  Morris  repeated  the  in 
formation. 

"Then  he  wouldn't  leave  us  at  all,"  Abe  said, 
and  Morris  nodded  sadly. 

"Ain't  it  terrible?"  he  commented. 

"Terrible?"  Abe  asked.  "What  d'ye  mean  — 
terrible?  Is  it  so  terrible  that  we  wouldn't  got  to  lose 
our  designer  right  in  the  middle  of  the  busy  season?" 

"I  don't  mean  us,  Abe,"  Morris  said.  "I  mean 
for  Henry." 

"Henry  neither,"  Abe  rejoined.  "Henry  would 
still  got  his  job  with  two  hundred  dollars  a  year 


raise." 


AUX  ITALIENS  339 

"And  a  bonus  of  two  hundred  dollars,"  Morris 
added. 

"A  bonus  of  nothing!"  Abe  almost  shouted. 
"Do  you  mean  to  told  me  you  would  pay  Henry 
a  bonus  of  two  hundred  dollars  now  that  he  must  got 
to  stay  on  with  us?" 

"I  sure  do,"  Morris  declared  fiercely;  "and 
furthermore,  Abe,  if  you  don't  want  to  pay  it  I 
would  from  my  own  pocket,  and  I'm  going  right  in 
to  tell  him  about  it  now." 

He  walked  away  to  the  cutting  room,  and  in  less 
than  five  minutes  Abe  repented  his  parsimony.  He 
went  on  tiptoe  to  the  door  of  the  cutting  room, 
where  Morris  leaned  over  Enrico,  uttering  words 
of  consolation  and  advice. 

"Mawruss,"  Abe  hissed,  "make  it  three  hundred, 
the  bonus." 

Morris  nodded. 

"And,  Mawruss,"  Abe  went  on,  "it's  pretty 
near  quarter  of  twro.  Ain't  you  going  up  there 
at  all?" 

"I  should  never  walk  another  step  if  you  didn't 
say  two  o'clock,"  Morris  Perlmutter  protested  to 
Philip  Sholy  as  they  hastened  up  the  stairway  in 
Jefferson  Market  Police  Court. 

"Never  mind  what  I  said,"  Sholy  cried.  "It's 
now  anyhow  quarter  past  two,  and  that  dago  has 
got  his  wife  and  servant  girl  and  two  clerks  waiting 


340  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

in  court  since  twelve  o'clock.  Eichendorfer  and 
Baskof  have  been  here  since  one  o'clock." 

"Say,  listen  here,  Sholy,"  Morris  said,  as  they 
panted  up  the  last  flight,  "I  came  just  as  soon  as 
I  could,  and  I  couldn't  come  no  sooner." 

"Hats  off!"  the  policeman  at  the  door  shouted,  as 
Morris  walked  up  the  aisle  with  his  attorney,  and  a  mo 
ment  later  they  passed  into  the  enclosure  for  counsel. 

"My  client  and  his  witnesses  have  been  here 
since  twelve  o'clock,"  a  lawyer  was  explaining 
while  Morris  sat  down,  "and  in  the  meantime  his 
place  of  business  has  been  closed. " 

At  this  juncture  the  client  in  question  caught 
sight  of  Morris  and  ripped  out  so  strong  an  Italian 
expletive  that  the  court  interpreter  nearly  swooned. 

"What  business  is  he  in?"  the  magistrate  asked. 

"He's  in  the  banking  business  on  Mulberry 
Street,"  the  lawyer  continued,  "and  it's  impossible 
to  say  what  harm  all  this  may  do  him." 

"Call  the  case  again,"  the  magistrate  said. 

"Witnesses  in  the  case  of  Giuseppe  Caraccioli 
please  step  forward,"  the  interpreter  announced,  and 
the  policeman  in  the  rear  of  the  courtroom  repeated 
the  injunction  to  the  loungers  in  the  stairway. 

"Guy-seppy  Scratch-oly,  he  bellowed,'5  and  Morris 
heard  him  from  his  seat  in  the  enclosure  for  counsel. 
He  jumped  to  his  feet  and  made  for  the  gate. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  Sholy  demanded,  grab 
bing  him  by  the  coat. 


AUX  ITALIENS  34r 

"Leggo  my  coat!"  Morris  cried,  and  the  next 
moment  he  was  taking  the  stairs  three  at  a  jump. 
Nor  had  his  excitement  abated  when  he  burst  into 
his  cutting  room  half  an  hour  later. 

"Henry,"  he  gasped,  "if  I  would  get  your  money 
back  for  you  would  you  stick  out  the  busy  season 
for  us?" 

Enrico  was  chalking  designs  on  a  piece  of  pattern 
paper  when  Morris  entered.  Beyond  a  slight  pal 
lor  he  appeared  to  be  quite  resigned  to  his  loss, 
but  at  his  employer's  words  he  flushed  vividly  and 
clutched  again  at  his  hair. 

"Leave  your  hair  alone  and  listen  to  me,"  Mor 
ris  commented. 

"Sure,  sure,"  Enrico  said  tremulously,  "I  leesten, 
Mr.  Perlmutt." 

"Did  you  hear  what  I  said?"  Morris  went  on. 
"If  I  can  get  your  money  back  for  you  will  you 
stay  on  here  till  the  busy  season  is  over?" 

"Sure,"  Enrico  cried;  "sure.  I  notta  geevadam 
how  long  I  stay,  you  getta  my  mon',  Mr.  Perlmutt. 
I  stay  here  one,  two,  t'ree  years." 

"All  right,"  Morris  said;  "put  on  your  coat 
and  go  back  to  Mulberry  Street.  Your  banker 
will  of  opened  up  again  bv  the  time  you  get  there." 

Ten  days  afterward  Abe  and  Morris  sat  in  the 
showroom. 


342  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"  T'phoee !  "  Morris  exclaimed.  "Ever  since  that 
Italiener  gets  his  money  back  he's  all  the  time 
hollering." 

Strains  of  the  prologue  to  Pagliacci  in  Enrico's 
throaty  barytone  came  from  the  cutting  room,  and 
Abe  smiled. 

"  You  couldn't  blame  him  for  being  happy, 
could  you?"  he  said. 

"Sure  I  couldn't,"  Morris  agreed,  "but  I  wish 
he  wouldn't  holler  the  same  tune  all  the  time. 
That's  that  Paliatzki  which  them  Italieners  is 
always  hollering." 

"  By  the  way,  Mawruss,"  Abe  asked,  "what  be 
came  of  them  Italieners?" 

"They  moved  out,"  Morris  said. 

"That  was  a  crazy  thing  you  done,  Mawruss, 
when  you  went  on  the  court  that  time,"  Abe  com 
mented.  "  In  the  first  place  you  wasted  a  whole 
lot  of  time,  and  in  the  second  place  that  Italiener 
could  have  been  murdered  already  when  his  depos 
itors  found  his  bank  closed." 

"Sure  I  know,"  Morris  said,  "and  on  the  head 
of  it  all,  Abe,  the  judge  dismissed  the  complaint. 
So  what  does  that  feller  Scratch-oly  do,  Abe,  but 
turn  around  and  sue  for  false  arresting." 

"Sues  you?"  Abe  exclaimed. 

"What  are  you  talking  about?"  Morris  cried. 
""  I  ain't  got  nothing  to  do  with  it.  The  whole 
thing  got  started  by  this  here  lawyer  by  the  name 


AUX  ITALIENS  343 

Sholy,  which  he  wanted  to  make  a  little  money. 
So  I  says  I  am  willing  to  pay  my  share,  but  I 
wouldn't  sign  no  complaints.  I  know  them  false 
arrestings  from  old  times  already. " 

"Who  did  sign  the  complaint?"  Abe  inquired. 

"Doctor  Eichendorfer  and  Henry Baskof," Mor 
ris  answered,  "and  the  way  them  fellers  looks  at  me 
now,  Abe,  you  would  think  I  done  'em  something." 

"And  how  about  Sholy?"  Abe  asked. 

"Sholy  acts  like  he  would  be  my  friend  for  life," 
Morris  replied.  "He's  handling  the  false  arresting 
case  for  them  fellers,  Abe,  and  they  already  paid 
him  a  hundred  dollars  detainer." 

"  It's  an  ill  wind  that  don't  blow  a  lawyer  any 
good,"  remarked  Abe. 


CHAPTER    ELEVEN 
MAN  PROPOSES 

AIN'T  it  terrible  a  strong,  healthy  young 
feller  should  go  off  like  that?"  Abe  Potash 
remarked,  as  he  and  his  partner  sat  in 
their  showroom  one  spring  morning.  "  I  give  you  my 
word  I  was  sitting  over  in  Hammersmith's  so  close 
to  him  as  I  am  to  you,  Mawruss,  when  it  happened." 

"Was  there  much  excitement?"  Morris  asked. 

"I  bet  yer  was  there  excitement!"  Abe  exclaimed. 
"Hammersmith  sends  across  the  street  for  a  doctor, 
and  you  ought  to  seen  Leon  Sammet  the  way  he 
acted.  'For  Gawd's  sake,  doctor,'  he  says, 
'couldn't  you  do  nothing  for  him?'  he  says.  'He's 
got  a  wife  and  family,'  he  says,  'and  we  shipped  him 
two  thousand  dollars  goods  only  last  Saturday." 

"Did  they?"  Morris  asked. 

"How  should  I  know?"  Abe  said.  "Sammet 
is  such  a  liar,  Mawruss,  he  couldn't  tell  the  truth 
no  matter  how  surprised  he  would  be.  But  one  thing 
is  sure,  Mawruss  —  Gladstein  did  owe  Sammet 
Brothers  for  a  big  bill  of  goods  and  the  widder  paid 
them  out  of  the  insurance." 

344 


MAN  PROPOSES  345 

"  Could  she  do  that  when  the  feller  leaves  a  family, 
Abe?"  Morris  inquired. 

"The  feller  didn't  leave  no  family,  Mawruss," 
Abe  answered.  "Leon  Sammet  just  takes  a  chance 
when  he  said  that  to  the  doctor.  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  Mawruss,  Gladstein  was  one  of  them  fellers 
which  he  ain't  got  a  relation  in  the  world.  Mrs. 
Gladstein  neither,  except  im  Russland.  That's 
the  way  it  goes,  Mawruss.  A  feller  which  he  has 
got  so  many  cousins  and  uncles  that  he  gets  writer's 
cramp  already  indorsing  accommodation  paper  for 
'em,  understand  me,  lives  to  be  an  old  man  yet,  and 
all  the  time  his  relations  and  his  wife's  relations 
is  piling  up  on  him;  while  a  man  like  Gladstein 
which  you  could  really  say  has  a  chance  to  enjoy 
life,  Mawruss,  is  got  to  die." 

Morris   nodded. 

"Don't  I  know  it?"  he  commented.  "And  I  sup 
pose  the  widder  sells  out  the  store." 

"Oser  a  stuck"  Abe  said.  "She's  still  running 
the  store,  and  making  a  fair  success  of  it  too." 

"Is  that  so?"  Morris  replied.  "Well,  then,  why 
couldn't  we  get  some  of  her  trade,  Abe?  Bridge 
town  ain't  so  far  away  from  here.  Why  don't  you 
take  a  run  over  there  sometime  and  see  what  you 
could  do  with  her?  Might  you  could  sell  her  some 
goods  maybe." 

" Yow ! "  Abe  exclaimed  derisively.  "We  couldn't 
sell  that  woman  goods,  not  if  we  was  to  let  her  have 


346  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

'em  for  the  price  of  the  findings,  Mawruss.  She's 
got  an  idee  that  she  is  getting  stuck  unless  she  would 
buy  goods  from  the  same  concerns  that  sold  Glad- 


stein." 


"Well,  if  that's  the  case,  Abe,"  Morris  said,  "she 
could  never  make  no  big  success  there.  A  feller 
like  Leon  Sammet  would  just  as  lief  stick  a  widdcr 
as  not  —  liefer  even." 

"  Sure,  I  know,"  Abe  replied. 

"Then  why  don't  some  one  give  her  a  couple 
pointers  about  that  feller,  Abe?"  Morris  inquired. 

Abe  nodded  solemnly. 

"You  know  a  whole  lot  about  women,  Mawruss, 
I  must  say,"  he  commented.  "You  could  give  a 
woman  pointers  by  the  dozen  about  a  man,  Mawruss, 
and  swear  to  'em  with  six  affidavits  yet,  and  what 
good  would  it  do?  It's  like  putting  a  'Wet  Paint' 
sign  up.  Everybody  feels  the  paint  to  see  if  it 
really  would  be  wet." 

"What  for  a  looking  woman  is  she,  Abe?"  Morris 
asked,  with  an  obvious  effort  at  nonchalance. 

"How  should  I  know?"  Abe  said.  "I  only  seen 
her  a  couple  times;  and  anyhow,  Mawruss,  I  don't 
take  it  so  particular  to  look  at  women  like  Leon 
Sammet  does,  Mawruss.  That  feller's  a  regular 
Don  Quicks-toe,  Mawruss.  He  is  all  the  time 
running  around  with  women." 

"A  feller  must  got  to  entertain  buyers  once  in  a 
while,  Abe,"  Morris  said. 


MAN  PROPOSES  347 

"Buyers  is  all  right,  Mawruss,"  Abe  declared, 
"but  I  guess  I  been  in  this  here  business  long  enough 
that  I  could  tell  a  buyer  from  a  model." 

" That's  all  right,  Abe,"  Morris  said.  "Leon 
Sammet  may  run  around  the  streets  with  women, 
Abe,  but  that  ain't  saying  he  is  got  intentions  to 
marry  Mrs.  Gladstein.  A  feller  like  Leon  Sammet 
which  he  is  crowding  fifty  pretty  close,  Abe,  ain't 
looking  to  marry  no  widders.  Young  girls  is  all 
them  fellers  is  looking  out  for,  Abe;  and  anyhow, 
Abe,  what  for  a  match  is  Mrs.  Gladstein  to  a  manu 
facturer?  If  she  expects  that  she  should  get  another 
husband,  Abe,  the  only  hope  for  her  is  some  retailer 
would  marry  her  as  a  going  concern.  She  couldn't 
liquidate  her  business  and  come  out  even,  let  alone 
with  money  enough  to  get  married,  Abe." 

"She  don't  got  to  got  money  to  get  married  on, 
Mawruss,"  Abe  rejoined.  "Any  one  would  be  glad 
to  marry  such  a  woman  supposing  she  didn't  got  a 
cent  to  her  name.  She's  an  elegant-looking  woman, 
Mawruss  —  not  too  thin  and  not  too  fat,  Mawruss, 
and  what  a  face  she  got  it,  Mawruss!  My  Rosie 
was  a  good-looking  woman,  Mawruss,  and  is  to-day 
yet;  but  Mrs.  Gladstein,  Mawruss,  that's  a  woman 
which  in  a  theayter  already  you  don't  see  such  a 
looking  woman.  She  could  dress  herself,  too,  I  bet 
yer.  The  last  time  I  was  by  Bridgetown  she  is 
wearing  one  of  our  Style  4022  which  Sammet  gan- 
vered  from  us  and  calls  the  Lily  Langtry  costume, 


348  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Mawruss,  in  a  navy  shade,  understand  me;  and  I 
don't  know  nothing  about  this  here  Lily  Langtry, 
Mawruss,  but  I  could  tell  you  right  now,  Mawruss, 
she  ain't  got  nothing  on  Mrs.  Gladstein  when  it 
comes  to  looks." 

Morris  nodded  and  turned  to  the  contemplation 
of  some  cutting-slips,  while  Abe  made  ready  for 
lunch. 

"Say,  lookyhere,  Abe,"  Morris  said,  when  Abe 
appeared  with  his  hat  on.  "I've  been  thinking 
about  this  here  Mrs.  Gladstein,  understand  me,  and 
I  come  to  the  conclusion:  Why  should  we  give  up 
so  easy?  Gladstein  always  done  a  good  business 
in  that  store,  y'understand,  and  if  the  widder  is 
such  a  good-looking  woman  like  you  say  she  is, 
Abe,  there's  an  opening  for  her  to  attract  a  big  trade 
in  gents'  furnishings  and  hats  up  there,  and  at  the 
same  time  keep  the  cloak-and-suit  end  going." 

"What  d'ye  mean  —  attract  a  big  trade  in  gents' 
furnishings  and  hats,  Mawruss?"  Abe  demanded 
indignantly.  "If  you  think  the  woman  is  a  flirt, 
Mawruss,  you  are  making  a  big  mistake." 

"Must  a  woman  got  to  be  a  flirt  that  she  should 
sell  gents'  furnishings,  Abe?"  Morris  asked  with 
some  heat. 

"That's  all  right,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said  with  a 
scowl.  "A  lady  ain't  looking  to  sell  the  gents' 
furnishing  trade,  Mawruss." 

"I   know  she   ain't,"  Morris   replied,   "but  if  a 


MAN  PROPOSES  349 

woman  is  good-looking,  Abe,  naturally  she  attracts 
the  clothing  and  furnishing  customers,  but  she  don't 
got  to  sell  those  customers,  Abe.  Her  husband 
could  do  that." 

"Her  husband  could  do  it?"  Abe  repeated. 
"What  are  you  talking  about  —  her  husband?" 

"Sure,  her  husband,"  Morris  went  on,  "and 
especially  if  a  good-looking  woman  like  Mrs.  Glad- 
stein  would  got  for  a  husband  a  good-looking  man 
like  B.  Gurin,  understand  me,  the  idee  works  both 
ways.  Mrs.  Gladstein  attracts  the  clothing  trade 
and  B.  Gurin  sells  'em,  y'understand,  while  B. 
Gurin  attracts  the  women's  garment  trade  and  Mrs. 
Gladstein  sells  'em." 

Abe  sat  down  suddenly  and  took  off  his  hat. 

"What  are  you  trying  to  drive  into,  Mawruss?" 
he  asked. 

"I  am  trying  to  drive  into  this,  Abe,"  Morris 
replied:  "B.  Gurin  is  a  good-looking,  up-to-date 
feller,  but  he's  in  wrong  with  that  store  of  his  in 
Mount  Vernon.  In  the  first  place,  the  neighbourhood 
ain't  right,  y'understand,  and  in  the  second  place 
Gurin  don't  attend  to  business  like  he  should;  be 
cause  he  ain't  married  and  he  ain't  got  no  respon 
sibilities.  To  such  a  feller,  Abe,  when  it  comes  to 
taking  a  young  lady  on  theayter  Saturday  night, 
business  is  nix,  even  when  Saturday  is  a  big  night 
in  Mount  Vernon." 

Abe  nodded. 


350  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Furthermore,  Abe,"  Morris  continued,  "if  we 
go  on  selling  B.  Gurin,  Abe,  sooner  or  later  he  would 
bust  up  on  us,  understand  me,  and  we  are  not  only 
out  a  customer  but  the  least  he  sticks  us  is  a  couple 
hundred  dollars.  He  owes  us  two  hundred  and 
fifty  right  now,  Abe,  since  the  first  of  the  month 
already.  Ain't  it?" 

Abe  nodded  again. 

"But  you  take  a  young  feller  like  B.  Gurin,  Abe," 
Morris  went  on,  "which  all  he  needs  is  a  wife  to 
steady  him  and  an  up-to-date  Medeena  like  Bridge 
town  to  run  a  store  in,  understand  me,  and  if  we  could 
put  this  thing  through,  Abe,  not  only  we  are  doing 
a  Mitzvah  for  all  concerned,  Abe,  but  we  are  making 
a  customer  for  life." 

"You  mean,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said  slowly,  "you 
would  try  to  make  up  a  match  between  B.  Gurin 
and  Mrs.  Gladstein?" 

"Sure,  why  not?"  Morris  said.  "It  stands  in 
the  Gemara,  Abe,  we  are  commanded  to  promote 
marriages,  visit  the  sick  and  bury  the  dead." 

Once  more  Abe  nodded,  and  this  time  he  managed 
to  impart  the  quality  of  irony  to  the  gesture. 

"Burying  the  dead  is  all  right,  Mawruss,"  he 
said.  "From  a  dead  man  you  don't  get  no  come 
backs,  and  his  relations  is  anyhow  grateful;  aber 
if  you  would  make  up  a  match  between  a  couple 
of  people  like  Mrs.  Gladstein  and  B.  Gurin,  what  is 
it  ?_  Even  .  if .  the  marriage  would  be  a  success, 


MAN  PROPOSES  35* 

Mawruss,  then  the  couple  claims  they  was  just  suited  ; 
to  each  other,  Mawruss,  and  we  don't  get  no  credit 
for  it  anyway.      On  the  other  hand,  Mawruss,  if 
they  don't  agree  together,  they  wouldn't  hate  each 
other  near  so  much  as  they'd  hate  us." 

"Why  should  they  hate  us?"  Morris  asked.  "Our 
intentions  is  anyhow  good." 

"Sure,  I  know,  Mawruss,"  Abe  retorted.  "From 
having  good  intentions  already,  many  a  decent, 
respectable  feller  goes  broke." 

Morris  flapped  the  air  impatiently  with  his  right 
hand. 

"Anybody  could  sit  down  and  talk  proverbs, 
Abe,"  he  said. 

"I  guess  I  could  talk  proverbs  in  my  own  store* 
Mawruss,  if  I  want  to,"  Abe  rejoined  with  dignity. 

"Sure  you  could,"  Morris  replied,  "but  one 
thing  you  got  to  remember,  Abe.  While  the  back-', 
number  is  saying  look  out  before  you  jump, 
the  up-to-date  feller  has  jumped  already,  and  lands 
on  a  five-thousand-dollar  order  mit  both  feet 
already." 

"I'll  tell  you,  Mr.  Perlmutter,  it's  like  this,"  B.  : 
Gurin  explained,  as  he  sat  in  his  Mount  Vernon 
store  that  evening;  "money  don't  figure  at  all  with 


me." 


"Where  is  the  harm  supposing  she  does  got  a  little 
money,  Gurin?"  Morris  protested.     "And,  anyhow, 


352  ABEf  AND  MAWRUSS 

*-t  4 

neveiMinnu  the  money,  Gurin.  We  will  say  for  the 
sake  of  example  she  ain't  got  no  money.  Does  it 
do  any  harm  to  look  at  the  woman?" 

B.  Gurin  passed  his  hand  through  his  wavy 
brown  hair,  cut  semi-pompadour  in  the  latest 
fashion.  There  was  no  denying  B.  Gurin's  claims  to 
beauty. 

"What  is  the  use  talking,  Mr.  Perlmutter?"  he 
said,  carefully  examining  his  finger-nails.  "I  am 
sick  and  tired  of  looking  at  'em.  Believe  me  I  ain't 
i  lying  to  you,  if  I  looked  at  one  I  must  of  looked  at 
hundreds.  The  fathers  was  rated  at  the  very  least 
D  to  F  first  credit,  and  what  is  it?  The  most  of 
'em  I  wouldn't  marry,  not  if  the  rating  was  Aa  i 
even,  such  faces  they  got  it,  understand  me;  and 
the  others  which  is  got  the  looks,  y'understand,  you 
could  take  it  from  me,  Mr.  Perlmutter,  they  couldn't 
even  cook  a  pertater  even." 

"Girls  which  they  got  D  to  F  fathers  don't  got 
!  to  cook  pertaters,"  Morris  commented  shortly. 

B.  Gurin  shrugged. 

"For  that  matter,  Mr.  Perlmutter,"  he  said, 
"I  don't  take  it  so  particular  about  my  food 
neither." 

"Say,     lookyhere,     Gurin,"     Morris     exclaimed. 

"What   is    the   trouble   with   you    anyhow?     First 

you  are  telling  me  you   don't  care  about  money, 

next  you   are   kicking  that  the  good-looking  ones 

i  couldn't  cook,  y'understand,  and  then  you  say  you   '; 


MAN  PROPOSES  353 

ain't  so  particular  about  cooking  anyway.  What 
for  a  kind  of  girl  do  you  want,  Gurin?" 

Gurin  continued  to  examine  his  finger-nails  and 
made  no  reply. 

" Because,  Gurin,"  Morris  concluded,  "if  you 
are  looking  for  a  homely  girl  which  she  ain't  got 
no  money  and  couldn't  cook,  understand  me,  I 
wouldn't  fool  away  my  time  with  you  at  all.  Such 
girls  you  don't  need  me  to  find  for  you." 

B.  Gurin  sighed  profoundly. 

"You  shouldn't  get  mad,  Mr.  Perlmuttcr,"  he 
said,  "if  I  tell  you  something?" 

"Why  should  I  get  mad,  Gurin?"  Morris  asked. 
"  I  am  coming  all  the  way  up  here,  which  I  am  leav 
ing  wife  and  boy  at  home  to  do  so  —  and  maybe 
you  don't  think  she  put  up  a  holler,  Gurin!  So  if 
you  wouldn't  even  consent  to  do  me  the  favour  and 
look  at  Mrs.  Gladstein,  Gurin,  and  I  don't  get  mad, 
understand  me,  why  should  I  get  mad  if  you  would 
tell  me  something?" 

"Well,"  Gurin  commenced,  "it  ain't  much  to  tell, 
Mr.  Perlmutter.  I  guess  you  hear  already  why  I 
am  coming  to  this  country." 

Morris  elevated  his  eyebrows. 

"I  suppose  you  are  coming  here  like  anybody  else 
comes  here,"  he  said.  "Sooner  as  stay  in  the  old 
country  and  be  a  Schnorrer  all  your  life,  you  come 
over  here,  ain't  it?" 

"No,    siree,    sir,"    Gurin    replied    emphatically* 


354  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"If  I  would  stay  in  the  old  country,  Perlmutter,  I 
don't  got  to  be  a  Schnorrer.  Do  you  know  Louis 
Moses,  the  banker  in  Minsk?" 

Morris  nodded. 

"That's  from  mir  an  uncle,  verstehst  du?"  Gurin 
said;  "and  Zachs,  the  big  corn  merchant,  that's 
also  an  uncle.  My  father  ain't  a  Schnorrer  neither, 
Mr.  Perlmutter;  in  fact,  instead  I  am  sending  home 
money  to  Russland  like  most  fellers  which  they 
come  to  this  country,  Mr.  Perlmutter,  my  people 
sends  me  money  yet." 

He  jumped  from  his  chair  and  went  to  the  safe, 
from  which  he  extracted  two  crisp  Russian  bank 
notes. 

"A  hundred  rubles  apiece,"  he  said,  and  his  face 
beamed  with  pride.  "So,  you  see,  I  don't  got  to 
leave  Russland  because  I  would  be  a  Schnorrer  over 
there." 

!  "No?"  Morris  replied.  "Then  why  did  you  leave, 
Gurin?  So  far  what  I  could  see  you  ain't  made  it 
such  a  big  successs  over  here." 

"You  couldn't  make  me  mad  by  saying  that, 
Mr.  Perlmutter,"  Gurin  commented.  "A  big 
success  oder  a  big  failure,  it  makes  no  difference 
to  me." 

"It  makes  a  whole  lot  of  difference  to  me," 
Morris  cried. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Perlmutter,"  B.  Gurin  went  on,  dis 
regarding  the  interruption.  "I  ain't  coming  over 


MAN  PROPOSES  355 

here  to  make  a  big  success  in  business.  I  am  coming 
over  here  to  forget." 

"To  forget!"  Morris  exclaimed.  "What  d'ye 
mean,  forget?" 

B.  Gurin  ran  his  hands  once  more  through  his 
pompadour  and  nodded  slowly. 

"That's  what  I  said,"  he  repeated  —  "to  forget." 

"Well,  I  hope  you  ain't  forgetting  you  owe  us  now 
two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  since  the  first  of  the  month 
yet,"  Morris  commented  in  dry,  matter-of-fact  tones. 

B.  Gurin  waved  his  hand  airily. 

"I  could  forget  that  easy,  Mr.  Perlmutter," 
he  said  —  and  Morris  winced  —  "but  the  rest  I 
couldn't  forget  at  all.  Day  and  night  I  see  her 
face,  Mr.  Perlmutter  —  and  such  a  face!" 

Here  he  paused  impressively. 

"N-nah!"  he  exclaimed,  and  kissed  the  tips  of  his 
fingers,  while  Morris  glanced  uneasily  toward  the  door, 

"  Her  name  was  Miss  Polanya  and  her  father  keeps 
a  big  flour  mill  in  Koroleshtchevitzi,  Mr.  Perlmutter," 
Gurin  went  on.  "A  fine  family,  understand  me;  and 
I  am  going  out  there  from  Minsk  twice  a  week,  when 
a  young  feller  by  the  name  Lutsky — a  corn  broker, 
y'understand  —  comes  to  sell  her  father  goods." 

Again  B.  Gurin  paused,  his  left  hand  extended 
palm  upward  in  a  tremulous  gesture.  Suddenly 
it  dropped  on  his  knee  with  a  despondent  smack. 

"In  two  weeks  already  they  was  married,"  he 
concluded,  "and  me,  I  am  coming  to  America." 


356  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"You  ain't  coming  to  such  a  bad  place  neither," 
Morris  rejoined;  "even  supposing  your  uncles  was 
such  big  Machers  in  the  old  country." 

"Places  is  all  the  same  to  me  now,"  Gurin  said  — 
"women,  too,  Mr.  Perlmutter.  I  assure  you,  Mr. 
Perlmutter,  since  the  day  I  am  leaving  Minsk  one 
woman  is  the  same  as  another  to  me.  I  ain't  got 
no  use  for  none  of  'em." 

"Geh  Meg,  Gurin,"  Morris  cried  impatiently. 
"You  talk  like  a  fool.  Just  because  one  lady  goes 
back  on  you,  understand  me,  is  that  a  reason  you 
wouldn't  got  no  use  for  no  ladies  at  all?  You  might 
just  as  well  say,  Gurin,  because  one  customer  busts 
up  on  you,  y'understand,  you  would  never  try  to 
sell  another  customer  so  long  as  you  live.  Now 
this  here  Mrs.  Gladstein,  Gurin,  is  a  lady  which 
while  I  never  seen  this  here  lady  im  Russland, 
y'understand,  if  you  will  just  come  out  to  Bridge 
town  with  me,  Gurin,  I  give  you  a  guaranty  Russland 
wouldn't  figure  at  all." 

Gurin  shook  his  head  sadly. 

"You  don't  know  me,  Mr.  Perlmutter,"  he  said. 
'While  I  am  going  with  plenty  Schatchens  to  see 
young  ladies  already,  Mr.  Perlmutter,  I  assure  you 
my  heart  ain't  in  it.  People  gets  the  impression 
because  I  am  a  swell  dresser,  Mr.  Perlmutter,  that 
I  am  looking  to  get  married;  but  believe  me,  Mr. 
Perlmutter,  it  ain't  so." 

"Then  what   do   you   go   for,   Gurin?"     Morris 


MAN  PROPOSES  357 

asked.  "Schatchens  don't  like  to  fool  away  their 
time  no  more  as  I  do,  Gurin;  and  you  could  take  it 
from  me,  no  girl  is  going  to  the  trouble  to  fix  herself 
up  and  make  a  nice  supper  for  you  and  the  Schatchen 
simply  for  the  pleasure  of  seeing  a  swell  dresser, 
Gurin." 

" That's  just  the  point,  Mr.  Perlmutter,"  Gurin 
said.  "A  feller  which  runs  a  store  like  this  one  and 
eats  his  meals  in  restaurants,  understand  me,  must 
got  to  get  a  little  home  cooking  once  in  a  while. 
Ain't  it?" 

"Why  not  get  married  and  be  done  with  it?" 
Morris  retorted;  "and  then  you  could  get  home 
cooking  all  the  time." 

Once  more  Gurin  shook  his  head. 

"Without  love,  Mr.  Perlmutter,  marriage  is  nix," 
he  said. 

"Schmooes!"  Morris  exclaimed.  "Do  you  think 
when  I  got  married  I  loved  my  wife,  Gurin?  Oser  a 
stuck.  And  to-day  yet  I  am  crazy  about  her.  With 
a  business  man,  Gurin,  love  comes  after  marriage." 

B.  Gurin  rose  wearily  to  his  feet  and  shot  his  cuffs 
by  way  of  showing  impatience. 

"What  is  the  use  talking,  Mr.  Perlmutter?"  he 
protested.  "When  I  want  to  get  married  I  would 
get  married  —  otherwise  not." 

He  flecked  away  an  imaginary  grain  of  dust  from 
the  lapel  of  his  coat  and  walked  slowly  toward  the 
door. 


358  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Are  you  going  home  on  the  New  Haven  road 
oder  the  Harlem  road?"  he  asked. 

Morris   scowled,   and   his   indignation  lent   such 

force  to  the  gesture  with  which  he  put  on  his  hat 

that  the  impact  sounded  like  a  blow  on  a  tambourine. 

^    "Schon  gut,  Gurin,"   he  said.     "I   am   through 

with  you." 

He  paused  at  the  doorway  and  lit  a  cigar. 

"And  one  thing  I  could  tell  you,  Gurin,"  he  con 
cluded.     "Either  you  would  send  us   a  check  the 
first  thing  to-morrow  morning,  oder  we  would  give 
your  account  to  our  lawyers,  and  that's  all  there  is 
[toit." 

He  puffed  away  at  his  cigar  as  he  trudged  down  the  • 
street,  and  he  had  nearly  reached  the  corner  when 
he   heard   a  familiar  voice  shouting:     "Mr.   Perl- 
mutter!"     He  turned  to  view  B.  Gurin  hastening 
after  him. 

"Well, Gurin,"  he  grunted,  "what  you  want  now?" 

Gurin  stopped  and  gasped  for  breath,  and  Morris's 
heart  gave  a  triumphant  leap  as  he  noted  the  anxiety 
displayed  on  B.  Gurin's  clean-shaven  features. 

"Speak  up,  Gurin,"  he  said;  "I  got  to  get  my 
train." 

Gurin  smiled  in  surrender. 

"All  right,  Mr.  Perlmutter,"  he  murmured;  "make 
for  me  a  date  and  I  will  look  the  lady  over." 

When  Morris  entered  his  place  of  business  the 


MAN  PROPOSES  359 

next  morning  he  found  his  partner  examining  the 
advertising  columns  of  a  morning  paper  with  an 
absorption  hardly  justified  by  the  tabulated  list 
of  births,  marriages  and  deaths  at  which  he  was 
gazing. 

"What's  biting  you  now,  Abe?"  Morris  demanded. 

"What  d'ye  mean,  what's  biting  me?"  Abe 
rejoined,  and  Morris  blushed  in  the  consciousness 
of  his  oversleeping  that  morning  by  more  than  half 
an  hour. 

"Say,  lookyhere,  Abe,"  he  cried.  "I  don't  know 
what  you  are  driving  into,  understand  me,  but  if 
you  think  you  could  get  brogus  at  me  just  because  I 
am  ten  minutes  late  once  in  a  while,  y'understand, 
let  me  tell  you  I  am  catching  a  twelve'o'clock  train 
from  Mount  Vernon  last  night,  and  not  alone  I  am 
talking  myself  blue  in  the  face  to  that  feller  Gurin, 
y'understand,  but  when  I  got  home  already  I  couldn't 
get  to  sleep  till  I  told  the  whole  thing  to  my  Minnie 
yet." 

Abe  nodded  slowly. 

"Yes,  Abe,"  Morris  continued,  "I  got  to  go  over 
the  story  twice  over  already,  and  even  then,  y'under 
stand,  my  Minnie  gets  mad  because  I  didn't  con 
tradict  myself. 

"Only one  idee  that  woman  got  it  in  her  head,  Abe. 
If  I  am  out  of  the  house  schon  ten  minutes  already 
you  couldn't  tell  her  otherwise  but  I  a*n  playing 
auction  pinocle." 


360  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

"Well,  you  might  just  as  well  of  been  playing 
auction  pinocle  last  night  for  all  the  good  it  would 
do  us." 

"What  are  you  talking  about  —  all  the  ,good 
it  would  do  us?"  Morris  almost  whimperecf. 
"  I  actually  got  the  feller  dead  to  rights,  Abe,  and  all 
I  must  do  now  is  to  work  from  the  other  end." 

Abe  burst  into  a  mirthless  laugh  and  handed 
Morris  the  paper. 

"You  should  of  worked  the  other  end  first, 
Mawruss,"  he  declared,  as  he  indicated  an  adver 
tising  item  with  his  thumb.  "That's  what  Leon 
Sammet  did,  Mawruss." 

Morris  seized  the  paper  and  his  face  grew  purple 
as  he  read  the  following  notice: 

ENGAGED:  Asimof  —  Gladstein.  Mrs.  Sonia  Gladstein,  of 
Bridgetown,  Pa.,  to  Jacob  Asimof,  of  Dotyville,  Pa.  At  home, 
Sunday  next  3  to  7  at  the  residence  of  Mrs.  Leah  Sammet, 
86f  West  One  Hundredth  and  Eighteenth  Street.  No  cards. 

"Leon's  mother  makes  the  engagement  party  for 
'em,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said  dryly.  "Costs  a  whole 
lot  of  money,  too,  and  I  bet  yer  Mrs.  Gladstein 
wouldn't  notice  it  at  all  in  the  next  six  months' 
statements  Leon  sends  to  her." 

Morris  stifled  a  groan  as  he  laid  down  the  paper 
and  forced  himself  to  smile  confidently. 

"What  difference  does  an  engagement  make, 
Abe?"  he  asked.  "An  engagement  ain't  a  wedding, 
Abe,  and  it  ain't  too  late  even  now." 


MAN  PROPOSES  361 

Again  Abe  indulged  in  a  bitter  laugh. 

"You're  a  regular  optician,  Mawruss,"  he  said. 
"You  never  give  up  hope." 

"That's  all  right,  Abe,"  Morris  retorted.  "We 
could  stand  a  couple  opticians  in  this  concern.  Al 
ways  you  are  ready  to  lay  down  on  a  proposition 
just  as  soon  as  things  goes  a  little  wrong,  under 
stand  me,  but  me  I  think  differencely." 

Abe  shrugged  and  rose  to  his  feet. 

"Well,  Mawruss,"  he  said,  "take  off  your  hat  and 
coat  and  stay  a  while.  Maybe  we  could  do  a  little 
business  here  this  morning  for  a  change." 

"Maybe  we  could  and  maybe  we  couldn't,  Abe," 
Morris  rejoined,  as  he  buttoned  up  his  coat;  "but 
just  the  same  I  am  going  to  do  something  which  you 
will  really  be  surprised." 

"Not  at  all,"  Abe  corrected;  "we  are  partners 
together  so  long  that  I  am  only  surprised  supposing 
you  should  act  sensible." 

"Well,  the  way  I  look  at  it  I  am  acting  sensible, 
Abe,"  Morris  announced.  "I  am  acting  sensible,, 
because  I  am  going  right  down  to  see  Marcus  Flachs 
and  I  would  buy  from  him  for  ten  dollars  cut  glass, 
and  I  would  show  that  sucker  Sammet  he  couldn't 
faze  me  none." 

"What  d'ye  mean,  couldn't  faze  you  none?" 
Abe  asked. 

"I  mean  if  Sammet  is  such  a  faker  he  goes  to  work 
and  makes  engagement  parties  for  his  customers 


362  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

and  puts  'em  on  the  paper  yet,  Abe,"  Morris  de 
clared,  as  he  jammed  his  hat  down  more  firmly  on 
his  head,  "he  must  got  to  expect  his  competitors 
would  take  advantage  of  it,  understand  me.  And 
you  could  bet  your  sweet  life,  Abe,  Sunday  after 
noon,  comes  three  o'clock,  I  am  right  there  at  his 
mother's  house  with  the  cut  glass,  and  don't  you' 
forget  it." 

Abe  nodded  grimly. 

"It's  a  free  country,  Mawruss,"  he  said,  "and 
nobody  could  stop  you  going  to  an  engagement 
party  which  is  in  the  paper,  y'understand;  but  you 
shouldn't  forget  one  thing,  Mawruss.  You  got  on 
our  ledger  a  drawing  account,  verstehst  du,  and  on 
your  way  out  you  should  please  tell  Miss  Cohen  to 
enter  the  ten  dollars  cut  glass  in  the  right  place." 

"Don't  worry,  Abe,"  Morris  cried,  as  he  started 
for  the  elevator.  "When  the  time  comes  we  should 
post  it  in  the  ledger,  if  we  ain't  opened  a  new  ac 
count  in  Bridgetown,  Pa.,  I  would  pay  for  it  myself." 

Ten  minutes  later  he  entered  the  Twenty-third 
Street  subway  station  en  route  to  Canal  Street, 
and  no  sooner  had  he  bought  his  ticket  than  his  en 
thusiasm  began  to  wane.  After  all,  he  reflected 
as  he  boarded  the  train,  ten  dollars'  worth  of  cut 
glass  seemed  rather  extravagant  when  one  considered 
the  size  of  an  order  that  in  the  most  favourable 
circumstances  might  emanate  from  a  store  in 
Bridgetown.  Indeed,  as  the  train  pulled  into  the 


MAN  PROPOSES  363 

Eighteenth  Street  station  he  had  come  to  believe  that 
seven  dollars  and  fifty  cents  would  be  a  generous 
price,  and  even  this  figure  commenced  to  look  huge 
as  Fourteenth  Street  drew  near.  At  Astor  Place, 
Morris  decided  that  five  dollars'  worth  of  cut  glass 
would  be  more  appropriate  for  a  widow.  When 
the  guard  announced  the  next  stop  as  Bleecker 
Street,  however,  it  occurred  to  Morris  that  the 
manufacturers  of  quadruple  plate  were  producing 
some  very  artistic  effects  in  knives,  forks  and  spoons, 
which  in  appearance  were  undistinguishable  from 
sterling  silver;  and  the  train  was  leaving  Spring 
Street  when  Morris  bethought  himself  of  a  certain 
bonbonniere  that  had  cost  Mrs.  Perlmutter  precisely 
four  dollars  at  a  dry-goods  store.  He  distinctly 
recalled  examining  the  trade-mark,  to  which  were 
affixed  the  words  "triple  plate." 

During  the  short  walk  from  the  Canal  Street 
station  to  Marcus  Flachs's  place  of  business,  he 
wondered  vaguely  if  there  were  such  a  thing  as 
double  plate,  and  when  at  last  he  opened  the  door 
of  the  pawnbroker's  sales  store  in  question  he  ap 
proached  the  counter  with  his  mind  fully  made  up. 

"Do  you  got  maybe  some  sets  from  nutpicks?" 
he  inquired  of  the  proprietor. 

Marcus  Flachs  took  the  question  in  ill  part. 

"What  the  devil  do  you  think  I  am  running  here," 
he  demanded  by  way  of  answer  —  "a  five-and- 
ten-cent  store?" 


364  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Since  when  do  they  sell  it  nutpicks  in  a  five- 
and-ten-cent-store?"  Morris  retorted. 

Flachs  snorted  angrily. 

"I  don't  think  they  sell  'em  even  in  five-and- ten- 
cent  stores,"  he  said;  "and  anyhow,  Mr.  Perlmutter, 
what  for  a  present  is  nutpicks  ?  If  a  feller  eats  nuts 
twice  a  year,  that's  a  big  average.  For  my  part  it 
would  oser  break  my  heart  if  I  would  never  eat 
another  nut  so  long  as  I  live.  Now  what  you  want 
to  get  is  something  cheap,  ain't  it?" 

Morris  nodded. 

"Something  about  two  dollars  and  fifty  cents," 
he  said. 

"That's  what  I  thought,"  Flachs  replied,  "and 
for  two  dollars  and  fifty  cents  there  ain't  much  choice. 
Olive  dishes  is  all  I  could  show  you." 

"Let  me  give  a  look  at  'em,"  Morris  said,  and  as 
Flachs  led  the  way  to  the  well-stocked  shelves  in 
the  rear  of  the  store  Morris  discerned  for  the  first 
time  the  presence  of  another  customer. 

"How  much  did  you  say  that  there  coffee  samovar 
was?"  cried  a  familiar  voice. 

"I  told  you  before,  Mr.  Klinger,"  Flachs  said, 
"'that  ain't  no  samovar.  That's  a  perculater 
And  it  cost  me,  so  sure  as  I  am  standing  here,  fifteen 
dollars,  so  I  would  let  you  have  it  for  twelve-fifty 
on  account  its  being  shopworn." 

"Take  ten  dollars  and  make  an  end,"  rejoined 
Klinger,  tendering  a  bill. 


MAN  PROPOSES  365 

"For  ten  dollars  I  could  give  you  a  fine  piece  cut 
glass,  Mr.  Klinger,"  Flachs  insisted. 

By  way  of  answer  Klinger  tucked  away  the  ten- 
dollar  bill  he  had  taken  from  his  waistcoat  pocket, 
and  Flachs  seized  the  coffee  percolator  with  both 
hands. 

"I'll  wrap  it  up  for  you  right  away,"  he  said,  and 
then  it  was  that  Klinger  recognized  Morris,  who  had 
been  standing  unnoticed  in  the  background. 

•'Hello,  Perlmutter!"  he  said;  "what  are  you  doing 
here?" 

"I  guess  I  am  doing  the  same  what  you  are  doing, 
Klinger,"  Morris  replied  stiffly.  "I  am  buying 
for  a  customer  a  present.  Ain't  it?" 

Klinger  nodded, 

"Honestly,  Perlmutter,"  he  said,  "I  never  seen 
the  like  how  things  happen.  No  sooner  you  start 
to  sell  goods  to  a  feller  than  somebody  is  engaged 
-)der  married  in  his  family." 

"He  must  be  a  pretty  good  customer  the  way  you 
are  blowing  yourself,"  Morris  commented. 

"I  bet  yerl"  Klinger  said  as  he  walked  away; 
"and  if  you  would  be  in  our  place  you  would  do 
the  same." 

For  five  minutes  Morris  examined  the  cut  glass, 
and  when  Flachs  returned  he  had  decided  upon  an 
olive  dish  of  most  intricate  design.  "That's  a 
close  buyer,  that  Mr.  Klinger,"  Flachs  observed. 

"Not  near  so  close  as  I  am,"  Morris  declared. 


366  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"Well,  you  wouldn't  anyhow  kick  on  paying 
twenty-five  cents  express,  Mr.  Perlmutter,"  Flachs 
said,  "but  that  feller  actually  wants  me  to  deliver 
the  package  for  nothing." 

"Why  not?"  Morris  asked.  "Don't  everybody 
deliver  packages  free?" 

"Not  a  pawnbroker's-sales  store,"  Flachs  replied; 
"and  anyhow,  Mr.  Perlmutter,  Leon  Sammet  this 
morning  buys  from  me  for  thirty  dollars  silver  to 
be  sent  to  the  same  place  on  One  Hundred  and 
Eighteenth  Street  as  that  there  perculater,  and  he 
didn't  kick  only  a  little  that  I  am  charging  him 
fifty  cents  express." 

"What!"  Morris  exclaimed.  "Is  Klinger  sending 
that  perculater  up  to  One  Hundred  and  Eighteenth 
Street  too?" 

"That's  what  I  said,"  Flachs  answered,  and 
Morris  replaced  the  cut-glass  dish  on  the  shelf. 

"Was  the  name  Gladstein?"  he  inquired,  and 
Flachs  nodded. 

"Then  in  that  case,"  Morris  said  savagely,  "let  me 
look  at  some  sterling  silver  for  about  twenty-five 
dollars.  If  them  suckers  could  stand  it,  so  can  I." 

More  than  two  days  had  elapsed  before  Abe  had 
exhausted  the  topic  of  Mrs.  Gladstein's  ten-dollar 
engagement  present.  He  discussed  it  satirically, 
profanely  and  earnestly,  from  the  standpoint  of 
business  ethics,  in  such  maddening  reiterations 


MAN  PROPOSES  367 

chat  Morris  could  not  help  wondering  how  much 
longer  Abe's  criticism  would  have  continued  had 
he  known  that  the  cold-meat  tray  really  cost  twenty- 
five  dollars. 

"You  are  throwing  away  good  money  after  bad, 
Mawruss,"  Abe  said,  renewing  the  subject  after  an 
interval  of  comparative  calm,  "because,  so  sure  as 
you  are  standing  there,  we  would  never  get  our  two 
hundred  and  fifty  out  of  that  feller  Gurin." 

"What  has  Mrs.  Gladstein's  present  got  to  do 
with  Gurin?"  Morris  asked.  "If  I  told  you  once, 
Abe,  in  the  last  two  days,  I  am  telling  you  a  dozen 
times,  understand  me,  I  am  giving  that  there  cold- 
meat  tray  to  Mrs.  Gladstein  as  a  speculation, 
Abe.  What  difference  does  it  make  who  she  marries, 
Abe,  Gurin  oder  Asimof,  so  long  as  we  could  land 
from  her  an  order  for  five  hundred  dollars?" 

"Yow!  You  would  land  from  her  an  order  for 
five  hundred  dollars!"  Abe  exclaimed. 

"Well,  if  Sol  Klinger  could  do  it,  why  couldn't 
we?"  Morris  asked. 

"What  are  you  talking  about  Sol  Klinger?" 
Abe  demanded. 

Thereupon  Morris  related  to  Abe  the  circumstances 
surrounding  Sol  Klinger's  purchase  of  the  coffee 
percolator,  and  when  he  concluded  Abe  nodded  slowly. 

"So  that  highwayman  is  butting  in  too,"  he  com 
mented.  "How  much  did  you  say  he  is  paying 
for  that  samovar,  Mawruss?" 


368  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

Morris  closed  his  eyes  as  though  he  were  mak 
ing  a  conscientious  effort  to  remember  the  exact 
amount. 

"  Thirty  dollars,"  he  announced  at  last. 

"What!"  Abe  cried.  "You  stood  there  and  let 
Sol  Klinger  buy  for  thirty  dollars  a  present  and  we 
ourselves  only  spend  ten?  What  for  a  piker  are 
you  anyway,  Mawruss?" 

"What  do  you  mean,  what  for  a  piker  am  I?" 
Morris  said  indignantly.  "  You  are  talking  me 
black  in  the  face  on  account  I  am  spending  ten 
dollars  and  now  you  are  kicking  I  didn't  spend 
thirty." 

"Did  you  tell  me  before  that  Sol  Klinger  buys  a 
present?"  Abe  asked.  "And  furthermore,  Mawruss, 
this  wouldn't  be  the  first  time  we  are  spending  money 
to  get  business.  Couldn't  we  afford  to  lay  out 
thirty  dollars  if  we  want  to?" 

"But,  Abe "  Morris  began. 

"But  nothing!"  Abe  roared.  "Why  should  you 
get  all  of  a  sudden  so  sparsam  mit  our  money,  Maw 
russ?  You  talk  like  we  would  be  new  beginners 
on  East  Broadway  already." 

"But,  Abe "  Morris  protested  again. 

"'S  enough,  Mawruss,"  Abe  interrupted.  "I 
heard  enough  from  you  already.  Only  one  thing  I 
got  to  tell  you :  if  we  lose  a  chance  of  getting  some 
business  from  a  lady  which  you  could  really  say 
I  know  her  well  enough  that  it's  a  shame  we  ain't 


MAN  PROPOSES  369 

sold  her  nothing  already  even,  don't  blame  me. 
That's  all  I  got  to  say." 

He  walked  away  to  the  cutting  room,  while 
Morris  sat  down  in  the  nearest  chair,  dazed  to 
the  point  of  temporary  aphasia.  For  five  minutes 
he  sat  still,  endeavouring  to  trace  the  intricacies  of 
a  discussion  that  had  put  him  so  decisively  in  th< 
wrong,  and  he  was  still  pondering  the  matter  when 
the  elevator  door  opened  and  B.  Gurin  alighted. 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Perlmutter?"  Gurin  cried. 

Morris  grunted  inarticulately  and  made  no  at- 
attempt  to  take  his  visitor's  proffered  hand. 

"Did  you  got  any  news  for   me?"  Gurin  asked. 

Morris  rose  to  his  feet. 

"Yes,  I  got  some  news  for  you,"  he  said.  "I 
got  news  for  you  that  Mrs.  Gladstein  is  engaged  to 
be  married  to  a  feller  by  the  name  Asimof." 

He  looked  absently  at  a  sample  rack  upon  which 
reposed  the  very  newspaper  that  contained  the 
advertisement. 

"Here  it  is,"  he  continued,  as  he  seized  the  paper. 
"You  could  see  for  yourself." 

He  handed  the  advertisement  to  Gurin,  who  read 
it  over  unmoved. 

"Well,  I  must  tell  you  the  honest  truth,  Mr, 
Perlmutter,"  he  said.  "I  couldn't  say  I  am  sorry/*' 
And  he  smiled  amiably. 

As  Morris  gazed  at  the  fashion-plate  features  and 
the  fashion-plate  apparel  of  his  visitor,  he  entirely 


370  ABE  AND   MAWRUSS 

forgot  his  optimistic  scheme  of  supplanting  Asimof 
with  Gurin  and  he  grew  suddenly  livid  with  a  fierce 
rage. 

"You  ain't,  ain't  you?"  he  bellowed.  "Well, 
you  ought  to  be,  because  so  sure  as  you  are  stand 
ing  there,  comes  Monday  morning  and  we  don't 
get  a  check  from  you,  we  would  close  you  up  sure, 
y'understand." 

"Now,  lookyhere,  Mr.  Perlmutter  — "  Gurin  be 
gan,  but  the  reaction  set  up  by  Morris's  encounter 
with  his  partner  had  begun  to  have  its  effect  and 
he  seized  Gurin  by  one  padded  shoulder. 

"Out!"  he  roared.  "Out  of  my  place,  you 
rotten,  cheap  dude,  you!" 

And  two  minutes  later  B.  Gurin  fled  wildly  down 
the  stairs,  the  newspaper  still  clutched  in  his  hand. 

Although  Leon  Sammet  had  at  first  been  actuated 
by  motives  of  a  somewhat  sordid  nature  in  his 
negotiation  of  Mrs.  Gladstein's  betrothal,  his  sub 
sequent  behaviour  was  tempered  by  the  traditional 
hospitality  of  his  race.  As  for  his  mother,  Mrs. 
Leah  Sammet,  she  entered  upon  the  preparations 
for  the  reception  with  an  ardour  that  could  not 
have  been  exceeded  had  Mrs.  Gladstein  been  her 
own  daughter.  Thus,  when  Sunday  afternoon 
arrived,  Mrs.  Sammet's  house  on  One  Hundred  and 
Eighteenth  Street  presented  an  appearance  of  un 
usual  festivity.  The  long,  narrow  parlor  had  been. 


MAN  PROPOSES  37r 

liberally  draped  with  smilax  and  sparingly  decorated 
with  ex-table-d'hote  roses,  until  it  resembled  the 
mortuary  chapel  of  a  Mulberry  Street  undertaker; 
and  this  effect  was,  if  anything,  heightened  by  four 
dozen  ^camp-chairs  that  had  been  procured  from  the 
sexton  of  Mrs.  Sammet's  place  of  worship. 

A  fine  odour  of  cooking  ascended  from  the  base 
ment  kitchen,  and  when  Jacob  Asimof  had  entered 
the  front  door  at  the  behest  of  a  coloured  man  with 
white  gloves  he  sniffed  the  fragrant  atmosphere  of 
the  lobby  like  a  coon  dog  at  the  base  of  a  hollow  tree. 

"Am  I  the  first  here?"  he  asked  Barney  Sammet, 
the  junior  partner  of  Sammet  Brothers,  who  had 
been  detailed  by  his  elder  brother  to  receive  the 
arriving  guests,  with  strict  injunction  to  keep  an 
eye  on  the  cigars. 

Barney  nodded  gloomily. 

"And  ain't  Mrs.  Gladstein  —  I  mean  Sonia  — 
come  yet?"  Jacob  inquired. 

"We  just  now  got  a  telephone  from  her,  the  train 
from  Bridgetown  is  late  and  she  would  be  here  in 
half  an  hour,"  Barney  replied. 

"That's  a  fine  lookout,"  Asimof  commented.  "I 
bet  yer  by  that  time  we  would  got  a  big  crowd 
here." 

The  words  were  prophetic,  for  the  shuffling  of 
many  feet  on  the  front  stoop  preluded  the  arrival 
of  Sol  Klinger,  Mrs.  Klinger,  Moe  Klein  and  Mrs. 
Klein,  who  were  immediately  succeeded  by  the  firm 


.372  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

of  Kleiman  &  Elenbogen,  H.  Rashkin,  the  coat-pad 
manufacturer,  and  Marks  Pasinsky. 

It  must  be  conceded  that  Leon  Sammet  comported 
himself  in  a  highly  creditable  manner,  and  he  greeted 
his  guests  with  a  cordiality  that  embraced  competi 
tor  and  customer  in  one  impartial,  comprehensive 
smile. 

"Why,  how  do  you  do,  Mr.  Klinger?"  he  ex 
claimed,  and  then  he  turned  to  Mrs.  Leah  Sammet, 
who  stood  beside  him.  "Mommer,"  he  said,  "I 
want  you  to  know  Mr.  Klinger.  Him  and  me  has 
been  competitors  for  twenty  years  already." 

Mrs.  Sammet  nodded  and  smiled. 

"For  my  part  twenty  years  longer,"  she  mur 
mured,  as  she  grasped  Sol's  hand. 

"At  a  time  like  this,  Mrs.  Sammet,"  Sol  rejoined, 
"it  don't  make  no  difference  to  me  if  a  man  is  ever 
so  much  a  competitor;  what  I  claim  is,  let  a  sleeping 
dawg  alone." 

Mrs.  Sammet  indorsed  the  sentiment  with  another 
smile,  and  Sol  with  his  retinue  passed  on  into  the 
back  parlour  for  the  purpose  of  inspecting  the  pres 
ents.  In  the  meantime  other  guests  had  preceded 
them,  and  among  them  was  a  man  whose  bearing 
and  raiment  proclaimed  the  creature  of  fashion. 
Not  only  were  his  trousers  of  the  latest  narrow 
design,  but  they  were  of  sufficient  modish  brevity 
half  to  conceal  and  half  to  reveal  a  pair  of  gossamer 
silk  socks,  which  in  their  turn  were  incased  by 


MAN  PROPOSES  373 

patent-leather,  low-cut  shoes.  The  latter  exhibited 
the  square  knobbiness  that  only  fashion  artists  can 
impart  to  the  footgear  of  their  models,  while  the 
broad  laces  that  held  them  by  the  insecure  hold  of 
two  eyelets  were  knotted  in  a  bow  that  might  have 
been  appended  to  the  collar  of  Mr.  Paderewski 
himself. 

"Ain't  this  Mr.  Gurin?"  Sol  Klinger  asked,  and 
the  creature  of  fashion  nodded. 

"You're  a  friend  of  the  Kahlo,  ain't  it?"  Klinger 
commented,  employing  the  vernacular  equivalent 
for  the  English  word  "bride." 

"In  a  way,"  Gurin  said  evasively;  " aber  the 
Khosan  I  don't  know  at  all." 

Thus  did  Gurin  imply  that  he  was  not  acquainted 
with  the  future  bridegroom,  and  Klinger  volunteered 
the  information  that  Asimof  ran  a  dry-goods  store 
in  Dotyville,  Pennsylvania. 

"I  sold  him  goods  for  years,"  he  added,  "and  I 
guess  I  would  continue  to  do  so,  even  if  that  Ganef 
Sammet  would  make  twenty  engagement  parties 
for  'em.  Did  you  see  the  samovar  I  gave  'em?" 

He  pointed  proudly  to  a  silver-plated  object, 
and  Gurin  glanced  at  it  scornfully. 

"Potash  £  Perlmutter  gives  'em  solid  silver," 
he  commented  —  "a  wide  dish." 

"Sure  I  know,"  Klinger  said,  "thin  like  paper." 

"Aber  sterling,"  Gurin  insisted,  and  Klinger  made 
a  telling  diversion. 


374  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"I  suppose  you  sent  'em  something  sterling  also," 
he  said. 

"Me?"  Gurin  exclaimed.  "Why  should  I  buy 
presents?  I  am  a  retailer  myself,  Mr.  Klinger,  so 
I  sent  'em  some  flowers." 

"I  don't  see  'em  nowhere,"  Sol  retorted. 

"They're  over  there,"  B.  Gurin  said,  making  a 
sweeping  gesture  in  the  general  direction  of  the 
nantelpiece,  and  as  he  did  so  a  bass  voice  sounded 
at  his  elbow. 

"Put  out  my  eye  why  don't  you?"  cried  Abe 
Potash,  and  then  he  recognized  his  assailant. 

"Say,  what  are  you  doing  here?"  he  demanded. 

B.  Gurin  looked  coldly  at  his  creditor  and  shrugged 
his  shoulders. 

"I  got  just  so  much  right  to  be  here  as  you,"  he 
said,  "and  that  partner  of  yours  too." 

He  hurled  this  defiance  at  Morris,  who  had 
entered  the  room  on  Abe's  heels;  but  the  retort 
passed  unnoticed  so  far  as  Morris  was  concerned, 
since  he  was  absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of  the 
presents. 

"Well,  Klinger,"  he  said,  "you  are  making  Mrs. 
Gladstein  a  pretty  fine  present,  ain't  it?" 

Klinger  scowled. 

"Mrs.  Gladstein  I  ain't  bothering  my  head  about 
at  all,"  he  replied.  "But  when  a  cut-throat  like 
Sammet  makes  out  a  scheme  to  steal  away  from  me 
an  old  customer  like  Asimof  I  got  to  protect  myself." 


MAN  PROPOSES  375 

Morris  whistled  expressively. 

"So  you  are  making  the  present  to  Asimof?" 
he  commented. 

"Sure,  I  am,"  Sol  answered.  "As  for  Mrs. 
Gladstein,  she  got  presents  enough  from  me.  The 
first  time  she  was  married  I  am  sending  money  to 
the  old  country  to  my  father  he  should  make  her 
a  present  on  account  Mrs.  Gladstein's  father  is 
my  father's  a  third  cousin,  understand  me.  And 
when  she  marries  Gladstein,  y'understand,  I  give 
her  both  an  engagement  and  a  wedding  present  both. 
And  do  you  think  that  sucker,  olav  hasholom,  ever 
buys  from  me  a  dollar's  worth  goods?  Oser  a 
Stuck." 

"And  you  say  Mrs.  Gladstein  was  twicet  mar 
ried?"  Morris  asked. 

"Ain't  I  just  telling  you  so?"  Sol  replied. 

"What  was  her  first  husband's  name?"  Morris 
asked;  but  the  question  remained  unanswered,  for 
at  that  very  moment  a  confusion  of  noises  in  the 
front  parlour  signalled  the  arrival  of  the  bride. 

Morris  and  Sol  followed  the  other  guests  from  the 
ear  parlour,  and  then  it  was  that  Morris  discerned 
his  partner's  appreciative  description  of  Mrs.  Glad- 
stein's  claim  to  be  in  no  way  exaggerated.  She  was 
arrayed  in  a  black  silk  dress  of  a  design  well  calculated 
to  display  her  graceful  figure,  while  her  oval  face 
was  shaded  by  a  black  picture  hat,  beneath  which 
ier  large  dark  eyes  glowed  and  flashed  by  turns. 


376  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

Moreover,  her  complexion  was  all  cream  and  roses, 
and  when  she  smiled  two  rows  of  even  white  teeth 
were  exposed  between  a  pair  of  tantalizing  red  lips. 

Morris  commenced  to  perspire  with  embarrass 
ment  as  he  remembered  how  he  had  planned  to 
negotiate  a  match  for  this  glorious  creature  —  a 
task  that  only  a  very  prince  of  marriage  brokers 
might  have  essayed.  He  turned  away;  but  as  his 
eye  rested  on  B.  Gurin,  who  still  lingered  over  the 
presents,  he  was  obliged  to  admit  that  he  had  chosen 
a  fitting  candidate,  and  he  even  felt  mollified  toward 
his  delinquent  customer  as  he  reflected  on  Gurin's 
lost  opportunity. 

"Gurin,"  he  said,  "ain't  you  going  to  congradulate 


"I  didn't  know  she  was  here  at  all,"  Gurin  said 
sadly.  The  truth  was  that  Gurin's  presence  at  the 
reception  that  af-ternoon  was  not  inspired  by  curi 
osity  concerning  either  Mrs.  Gladstein  or  Asimof. 
Business  was  undeniably  bad  with  him,  and  he  was 
making  an  earnest  effort  to  keep  his  financial  head 
above  water.  Thus  he  limited  his  personal  expenses 
to  the  preservation  of  his  wardrobe,  and  he  had 
cut  down  his  cost  of  living  to  a  degree  that  permitted 
only  a  very  low,  lunch-wagon  diet.  He  saw  in 
Mrs.  Sammet's  hospitality  the  prospect  of  a  meal, 
and  although  he  was  by  no  means  courageous,  his 
appetite  spurred  him  on  to  brave  his  creditors' 
wrath. 


MAN  PROPOSES  377 

"I'll  take  a  look  at  her,"  he  murmured  apologeti 
cally,  and  he  began  to  elbow  his  way  through  the 
group  that  surrounded  the  engaged  couple.  Morris 
patted  him  on  the  shoulder  as  he  passed  and  was 
about  to  return  to  the  back  parlour  when  a  shriek 
came  from  the  centre  of  the  congratulatory  throng. 

"Boris!"  cried  a  female  voice  with  a  note  of 
hysteria  in  its  shrill  tones. 

"Sonia!"  B.  Gurin  exclaimed,  and  the  next 
moment  he  clasped  Mrs.  Gladstein  in  his  arms. 

"You  was  asking  me  the  name  of  Mrs.  Gladstein's 
first  husband,"  said  Sol  Klinger  to  Morris  Perl- 
mutter,  as  they  descended  the  stoop  together  half 
an  hour  later.  "It  was  Aaron  Lutsky.  He  died 
two  years  after  they  was  married.  I  knew  his 
family  well  in  the  old  country  —  her's  too,  Perl- 
mutter.  Her  father  was  a  feller  by  the  name  Po- 
lanya,  and  to-day  yet  he  runs  a  big  flour  mill 
in  Koroleshtchevitzi." 

"So  I  understand,"  Morris  said;  "but  what's 
that  you  got  there  under  your  coat?" 

He  referred  to  a  huge  bulge  on  the  right  side  of 
Sol  Klinger's  Prince  Albert  coat,  which  Sol  was 
supporting  with  both  hands. 

•'That's  my  present,"  Sol  said,  as  if  surprised 
at  the  question,  "and  if  Marcus  Flachs  wouldn't 
give  me  my  money  back,  understand  me,  I  could 
anyhow  exchange  it  for  something  useful." 


378  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

"It  don't  make  no  difference,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said, 
as  they  sat  in  their  showroom  two  months  later. 
"The  feller  should  got  to  pay  us  that  two  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars." 

"But  we  would  get  lots  of  business  out  of 
them  now  that  they  are  married,  Abe,"  Morris 
protested. 

"Sure,  I  know,  Mawruss,  and  they  got  lots  of 
presents  out  of  us  too,  Mawruss,"  Abe  said.  "  Count 
ing  the  engagement  and  the  wedding  present, 
Mawruss,  and  my  Rosie's  new  dress,  and  the  pants 
which  you  bought  it  to  go  with  your  tuxedo,  under 
stand  me  —  first  and  last  we  must  be  out  a  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars." 

Morris  nodded.  He  recognized  that  an  oppor 
tunity  was  here  presented  to  correct  Abe's  figures 
by  the  addition  of  fifteen  dollars  to  the  price  of  the 
engagement  present,  but  he  deemed  it  more  prudent 
to  await  the  arrival  of  Gurin's  first  order.  In  point 
of  fact,  Morris  had  begun  to  examine  the  mails 
with  some  anxiety  for  a  letter  postmarked  Bridge 
town.  More  than  two  weeks  had  elapsed  since 
Gurin's  wedding,  and,  making  due  allowances  for 
honeymooning,  it  seemed  to  Morris  that  from 
an  inspection  of  Mrs.  Gladstein's  stock,  made  by 
him  on  a  congratulatory  visit  to  Bridgetown,  there 
was  immediate  need  for  replenishment. 

"I  don't  understand  why  we  don't  hear  from  them 
people  at  all,"  he  said. 


MAN  PROPOSES  379 

"Give  'em  a  show,  Mawruss.  Give  'em  a  show," 
Abe  replied.  "A  man  only  gets  married,  for  the 
first  time,  once." 

Morris  shrugged. 

"For  my  part,  Abe,  I  ain't  in  no  hurry,"  he  said. 
"If  you  could  see  the  way  Leon  Sammet  gives  me 
a  look  this  morning  when  I  seen  him  on  the  subway 
y'understand,  it  would  be  worth  to  you  a  hundred 
and  fifty  dollars.  Sol  Klinger  is  feeling  sore  too, 
Abe.  I  seen  him  in  Hammersmith's  yesterday, 
and  he  says  to  me  Flachs  wouldn't  exchange  that 
samovar  arrangement  which  he  bought  it,  so  he 
took  it  home  with  him,  and  he  ain't  drunk  nothing 
but  coffee  in  two  months." 

"I  bet  yer,"  Abe  commented;  "and  he  also  ain't 
got  an  order  from  Asimof  in  two  months.  The 
feller  is  heartbroken,  Mawruss.  He  even  had  made 
arrangements  to  sell  his  store  in  Dotyville  and  move 
over  to  Bridgetown,  y'understand,  and  when  he 
called  the  deal  off  the  purchaser  sues  him  for 
breach  of  contract  yet." 

"But  why  should  he  get  mad  at  Klinger?"  Morris 
asked.  "Klinger  didn't  do  him  nothing." 

"Maybe  you  don't  think  so,  Mawruss,  but  Asimof 
figures  differencely;  because  he  told  me  this  morning, 
that  after  the  engagement  is  off,  understand  me, 
Mrs.  Gladstein  and  him  makes  a  division  of  the 
presents.  Asimof  takes  what  was  sent  by  the  con 
cerns  which  is  selling  him  goods,  and  Mrs.  Gladstein 


3So  ABE  AND  MAWRUSS 

takes  the  rest,  all  excepting  a  present  they  got  from 
Marks  Pasinsky. 

"Pasinsky  used  to  sell  'em  both  goods,  y'under- 
stand;  but  fortunately,  Mawruss,  he  sends  'em  a 
dozen  coffee  spoons,  so  Asimof  takes  six  and  Mrs. 
Gladstein  takes  six." 

"It's  a  good  thing  Pasinsky  didn't  send  'em  a 
single  piece  of  cut  glass,"  Morris  said  thoughtfully. 

"It  wouldn't  make  no  difference  to  Asimof," 
Abe  said.  "He  would  of  allowed  Mrs.  Gladstein 
half  cost  price,  give  or  take.  He's  a  pretty  square 
feller,  Asimof  is,  Mawruss,  and  he  said  he  would 
give  a  look  in  here  this  afternoon.  We  needn't 
be  afraid  from  him,  Mawruss.  He's  A  number 
one  up  to  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  thirty  days 
net." 

Morris  nodded  again  and  walked  slowly  toward 
the  cutting  room,  while  his  partner  sat  down  to 
read  the  trade  news  in  the  Daily  Cloak  and  Suit 
Record.  Morris  had  hardly  reached  the  doorway, 
however,  when  a  strident  shout  caused  him  to  retrace 
his  steps  in  a  hurry. 

"What's  the  matter  now?"  he  exclaimed;  but 
Abe  was  incapable  of  articulate  speech.  Instead 
he  held  out  the  paper  and  made  noises  appropriate 
to  an  apopletic  seizure,  which  Morris  construed  as 
a  request  to  look  at  something  of  more  than  ordinary 
interest. 

"Where,  where?"  he  demanded,  and  Abe  stuck 


MAN  PROPOSES  ^T 

a  trembling  forefinger  through  the  printed  page, 
As  nearly  as  the  torn  edges  of  the  paper  would 
permit,  Morris  read  the  following  paragraph: 

BRIDGETOWN,  PA.  —  D.  GLADSTEIN'S  STORE  CLOSED.  The 
stock  and  fixtures  of  the  general  store  conducted  here  by  D. 
Gladstein,  deceased,  were  closed  out  last  week,  and  his 
widow,  who  recently  married  B.  Gurin,  sailed  from  New  York 
with  her  husband  yesterday  for  Hamburg.  It  is  understood 
that  they  intend  to  reside  permanently  in  Europe. 

While  Morris  perused  the  item  Abe  gradually 
recovered  his  composure,  and  when  his  partner 
at  last  put  down  the  paper  Abe  was  able  to  smile 
the  slow,  ghostly  smile  of  a  man  who  has  called  four 
deuces  with  an  ace  full. 

"Well,  Mawruss,"  he  said  resignedly,  "a  feller 
must  expect  the  worst  when  he's  got  an  optician 
for  a  partner." 


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